


Mother's Tale

by amf_wip



Category: Vampire: The Masquerade
Genre: F/M, Multi, Other, RPG
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-14
Updated: 2014-11-16
Packaged: 2018-02-25 09:47:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 39,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2617400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amf_wip/pseuds/amf_wip
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of online roleplaying, centered around the Nosferatu "Mother"; set in the By Night Studio vampire world.<br/>Collected here for convenience, and to track gradual character development.</p><p>This collection is OOC; do not use this information in game.  Thanks.  :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Travis's Last Night (May 15, 2014)

**Author's Note:**

> Travis Weston, Andrew Stanum, Cross, and Chuck are "player characters", and were written by their players.

"Ramos has requested a meeting with you and I at half-past twelve on May 15th."

“I must admit this is quite different from expectations. Has this meeting been cleared with my... Handler?”

"The Prince has declared that your regnant is not required for this meeting," Mother responds.

“An interesting choice of answer to the question. Considering what I hear that does lead to certain conclusions.”

"It leads me to conclude that Prince Ramos did not feel he was necessary to this meeting."

“Please, we know I mean beyond the obvious. It also behooves me to follow certain etiquette as well regardless.”

"I'm sure if Ramos changes his mind and wants to invite him, he will inform him directly. I was not advised to contact him. Were you?"

“I would be remiss if I didn't, it goes with the relationship we have.”

Mother's voice drops to a more personal tone. "Travis, for your continued safety, I would caution against it. Ramos decided who would be aware of this meeting, and I would not cross Ramos."

“Ramos has ever been one to be wary of, but he has had restraints and certain respect for most of these things. I appreciate the words of caution, but it only raises my suspicion as to the nature of the meeting and what it could mean for my continued existence and in who I can name ally and enemy. There is far too much here to accept at face value, even if we weren't who we both are, or in the positions we both are in...”

Mother pauses, then chuckles. "Well, I have to admire your paranoia, even if I think it is misplaced. Do be careful. It wouldn't do for your regnant to make an enemy of the Prince."

“Please, Paranoia takes a completely different meaning when dealing with... Dark... operations. Consider it more... professional courtesy.”

"Hmm. In any case, do be careful. I'd hate for something... untoward... to happen to you while enroute."

“I typically am quite careful, but I do appreciate the concern.”

Mother disconnects the call.

\-----

The meeting is arranged to take place at the Law office of Gorman and Associates, on Germain street at 12:30 AM. When Mother arrives, the offices are empty save for a large man at the door wearing an earpiece, who expressionlessly holds the door open for Mother.

Ramos is waiting for her in a board room, sitting with his fingers steepled at the head of the table.

Mother enters. "Thank you for your time, my Prince," she says softly, and remains standing unless Ramos indicates she should sit.

Arriving fashionably late, Travis makes his way into the room after a brief pause to inspect the man at the door, considering him. He steps in, and nods respectfully and politely, first to Ramos, then to Mother.

Ramos nods to Mother when she arrives, but does not indicate she should sit. When Travis arrives he watches them both for a moment before speaking. "Do you understand why you are here Ghoul?"

“Mother contacted me and informed me that you desired a meeting between us, Prince Ramos.”

Ramos smiles slightly. "Tell him why he is here Mother."

Mother turns her head slowly, silently. "I have asked our Prince for permission to embrace you," she says quietly inside her mask.

“Have you now... I can hardly state I’m really surprised considering recent events and discussions. However, isn't this form of decision and discussion most often done without the... participation... of the intended? No offense meant, however it does strike me curiously.”

"How I choose to conduct my affairs is not for you to question, Ghoul!" Ramos snaps. He pauses, and then more calmly asks, "How old are you Ghoul?"

Travis’ eyes widen slightly at the outburst, but he doesn't physically move or react beyond that, more of a curious reaction than feeling fear or being startled by the reaction. 

After the pause and next question Travis says in the same even tone “I am 93 years old this year, if I still celebrated birthdays.”

"And has your Domitor ever expressed any intention of Embracing himself?"

Mother closes her eyes briefly, and gives a minuscule shake of her head, hoping that Travis will take the question as intended.

"It had been discussed in the past, but had not been discussed in quite some time."

Ramos considers the Ghoul before him for a moment, before turning his gaze back to Mother. "I give you my permission to Embrace this Ghoul."

Mother gives Ramos a small bow. "Thank you, my Prince."

Travis looks down, sliding the sleeve on his right arm up slightly. Careful observation shows a watch that he seems to check before letting his sleeve fall again. With a ‘Hmm’ he then looks up “As this seems to be the course you have both chosen, will it be done here and now or later and elsewhere? Inquiring minds do wish to know... especially as they do strike quite close to home.”

Mother smiles beneath her mask, and turns back to Ramos. "And in exchange for this gift, my Prince?"

"Consider it just that. A Gift." He stands and pulls a phone from his pocket, turning his attention to it, evidently a dismissal.

Mother gives Ramos another small bow. "Thank you, my Prince." She turns to Travis. "Come, my dear, there's much to be done."

Travis listens to Ramos’ last words on the matter, and the apparent dismissal. He slips his sleeve up slightly and taps on his watch a few times. “Well, that does seem to be that.”

Mother tilts her head curiously; Travis can be very subtle when he wants to be, and *that* was not subtle. She approaches Travis, trying to crowd him against the wall beside the door. "What is this, pet?" She reaches out to run her hand from his elbow to his wrist.

Travis seems resistant to being crowded, but eventually finds himself there as he also has no intentions to go ‘Active Resistance’ at this moment. “The simplest explanation would be that it was me hitting send and confirming the order to send.” He says to the question asked of him.

"What was the message, and who did you send it to?" Mother assumes it went to his former domitor, but it's always best to confirm these things.

“The message was a conversation that was had, and the recipient the one person not present who should at least be aware.”

Mother tenses, waiting to see how Ramos will react to their conversation being sent to the Setite. "Travis, give me the watch," she says, a note of tension in her voice as she carefully steps between Travis and Ramos.

Travis flips his wrist over and unclasps the watch from it. “If feasible, I would prefer it back at some later point.” He says as he hands the watch to Mother.

"You don't strike me as sentimental," she says as she flips the watch over, checking for a way to get to the battery. She angles herself so that while she stands between her Prince and her soon-to-be progeny, she can keep a watchful eye Ramos for any outbursts in temper.

“It’s not for sentimentality, more pragmatism... not wanting to see something go to waste.” He replies, watching Ramos and the door as she finds the back has a small latch lock, something between a watch and a cell phone.

She quickly peels off the back, removes the battery, and checks to see if there seems to be any power running through it from a secondary source. "I'd rather we weren't tracked. Or interrupted."

Travis watches as the watch goes completely dead with the removal of its ‘large’ battery. “Such things can be arranged for.”

She pauses, and looks at him. "Are you arranging for us to *be* tracked or interrupted?"

“I hadn't made any plans or arrangements thus far, one way or another.”

"Is someone else planning to track us, interrupt us, or otherwise interfere?" The watch and battery disappear under her cloak.

“Not to my knowledge at this time.”

"Good. This will be far more pleasant for you if we can take our time." She takes Travis's hand in hers, lacing their fingers together. "Come along, little one."

Travis takes Mother’s hand, not fighting it. “Well, that is a relief I suppose.”

She leads him into the hall, and stops once they're out of Ramos's office. "Do you have a knife on you, perchance?"

“I always try to be prepared for most eventualities. I have a knife on my calf.” He reaches into the pocket of his jacket and pulls out his phone, flipping it over and pulling the battery out and then using a small wire piece to pull out another battery.

Mother smiles beneath her mask as she watches Travis disable his phone. "Is that the only other tracker?" she asks, removing one of her white gloves.

“The only one I have on or around me.”

"Are there any other methods he might be using? Did he plant anything on your vehicle?" 

“I doubt it, however it wouldn't surprise me to discover such a thing happened. He’s quite skilled and canny himself.”

"Well, we'll just have to take a cab, then," Mother replies with a reassuring squeeze to Travis's bicep. She holds out her hand. "We'll lock these things in your car, shall we?"

“Very well then... it’s about a block away.” He slowly takes Mother’s offered hand.

She nods. "Then let's get you to safety." She looks at him for a moment, then pulls a rolled up plastic bag out from under her cloak, and puts the watch parts and his phone in it. "Drop your keys inside."

Travis reaches into his pocket and slowly pulls out a ring of keys that he drops into the bag when asked.

She leads him to the basement. She takes him to a small room, barely more than a closet, with a set of shelves along the back wall. She closes the door behind her, flicks on a dim overhead light, and leans back against the door. "Put your clothing in the bag, and put those on," she says, gesturing to the shelves where a folded T-shirt and pair of sweatpants rest. A pair of hiking boots sit on the shelf below. "I'll close my eyes if you'd like to retain your modesty a bit longer."

Travis follows her, looking around as they go. He takes off his customary clothing, stripping down to his boxers and socks only slightly after Mother adds the part about closing her eyes. Travis simply grabs the clothing and puts it on, checking the security of the fit.

She shakes her head. "Everything, Travis. You can't wear anything out that you wore in." She tilts her head to one side. "Want me to close my eyes?" she asks with a hint of humour in her tone.

“You don’t need to, this is more bothersome than problematic...” He replies as he steps back out of the boots to take his socks off, and then takes the pants off to take off his boxers before getting dressed again and putting his under things into the same pile, folded neatly, with the rest of his clothing.

"You're not the first," Mother replies. "I've learned it's better to be too cautious than not cautious enough. Maybe he won't care that you're gone, but let's be careful anyhow." She sets the bag of Travis's things aside.

“I would hope he cares that I’m gone...” he says before closing his lips again and pinching the bridge of his nose.

It could be an act, but it pulls at Mother's compassion regardless. She gently touches his cheek, then runs her fingers back into his hair and guides his head to her shoulder. "I know you would, little one. But he knew you were coming here, and must have suspected why, and what did he do to stop it?" she asks softly.

“If he knew, it wasn't because I told him. The conversation suggested harm could come to Ahmose if I informed him in advance, so if he already knew that would make such an order suspect... and if Ramos said he knew but told you to ensure I didn't tell anyone of the meeting, then it’s possible, even likely, Ramos lied...”

Mother nods. "All valid theories." She guides him back so they are once again face to face. "And why are you here with me?" Her voice remains soft.

“Curiousity as well as the hint of threat to both myself and Ahmose if I refused to show up, or failed to for anything less than being incapacitated... and even possibly then depending on the whim of Ramos. There’d been rumours and whispers I needed to find the truth of, and the risk was more than reasonable... Now... now bargains have been made, deals struck, and dominoes may start to fall...” Travis sighs deeply.

"Rumors and whispers of what?" Mother asks.

“Plans, mindsets, positions and thoughts... The future of certain aspects of this city and some of the people within it... not the least of whom is myself.”

"Details, child. A vague reference is not your friend. Not with me." Mother is careful to keep her voice at the same gentle tone it's been since they left Ramos's office.

“Well the most obvious is confirming in one of the few closed door meetings I may have, the exact degree of control and stability Ramos truly has... as he tends to marshal his will and drive to the few times he appears in public, Best Behaviour isn't purely indicative even if it hints. Your own thoughts, intentions and inclinations, revealed slightly by the one true conversation we've shared without innuendo and hint, parry and thrust, but only bearing the full fruit of itself now... In both circumstances, my own path and fate, as well as those of others who’s ultimate fate may also be shaped by my own, as well as my actions.”

"And what conclusions have you drawn from tonight's events?" 

“Ramos holds on by the thinnest of threads, and you can be relied upon to act on that which you’re interested in.”

So many threads to pluck... "And where do you think my interests lie? What is it I'm acting upon tonight?"

“You look deeper than most, as should be expected from one of your age and clan but is often sadly not the case. A trait woefully lacking in other members. You've watched what you could, discovered or witnessed the outcomes of things you couldn't see fully first hand, and once you reached a certain... appreciation... you became more directly interested. Long explanation short, you’re acting on not just the perceived value and potential... something which has made others consider action, or jockeying for position themselves... but a deeper understanding of the fullness of all things and not wanting to risk seeing it squandered in much of the potential coming conflict.” 

He pauses, taking a breath before continuing.

“You choose to act to claim me not just because of what I can do or how I do it... but who I am and have been... and thus the potential you see as much as the skill and ability you and others have already borne witness to and the hope to see it flourish if properly guided and not lost to the hands of others with only the chance of action to bring it back to where you might help. At least that’s what I've gathered from what I've seen and heard and pieced together using skills I've been trained in.”

Mother chuckles, and squeezes his hand warmly. "Oh, Travis. Is it any wonder I like you? Go on. Tell me about the potential coming conflict."

“There’s a few potential ones on the horizon... the largest one revolving around Ramos and his growing list of antagonists... lesser ones between some of the groups that have seen stress already.”

"Who are Ramos's antagonists, why, and how likely are they to act?" Mother sends a quick text to her Tremere lover, Andrew, and looks back to Travis, tucking her phone away.

“There’s the obvious, such as this action tonight will bring some form of action by Ahmose against Ramos. It won’t be direct, and it won’t be overtly physical, however it will be a form of retribution against someone he’d been happy to allow the system to work for and maintain more or less the status quo with up until this point. There’s several avenues he might pursue, all keeping with general attitudes and persona, from political to financial action. There’s Mick’s agenda, ever since his acting like a classless, self indulgent, attention junkie moron two years ago and being called on it by Ramos and being forced to apologize he has been working to grow his network and influence. He’s maneuvered himself into a position where he can potentially undermine and remove the Prince who has slighted him. While there is more to Mick than his outward persona and ego, it has yet to develop into much. I highly doubt that Mick acts without at least unspoken support by Eduardo and other Toreador either. I expect at the next sign of weakness Edward will also act, but always towards the side he expects to prevail so he can claim even more control and influence. If she remains active, I anticipate the Lady will also strike at that time, calling in debts where able and swaying things even more into her favour. She desires the city in a serious way. However of all those in play, and those are only a few, the most obvious, I’m most curious to see how you and Andrew will strike. Even more than seeing who acts first.”

Mother stills. "You think Andrew and I oppose Ramos?"

"Yes. You're too careful and well positioned to be seen as opposition, and have given just enough support to convince most. However certain actions and words have been just precisely enough what was needed to place things on Ramos."

"Such as?"

"Well, most immediately this deal, allowing Ramos to set the price and thus take the blow back from the arrangement."

"That was... unexpected."

"The final... Tally... Of course, but it was still left to his decision."

Mother straightens, and folds herself inside her cloak. "There may be a... an older reason for it being a gift."

"Of that I have no doubt... Even if details are not even sketchy outside of a small circle. Regardless, he set the price, he gave away someone else's ghoul... So blow back comes to him."

She nods slowly. "Yes, it does," she sighs, and takes his hand. "Does that worry you as much as it worries me?"

"At this moment, I can't say it does... But my present circumstances see me less worried about Chaos than yourself."

She tilts her head to one side. "What else makes you think Andrew and I oppose Ramos?"

"You understand that if you were anyone else in the city the fact this conversation continues would be compelling character evidence of the claim... Anyone else at all. It's been pieces, very little pieces... Situations where there was more than simply giving the Prince his due, not unlike the flare up between Ramos and Mick where it was Church rushing to try and appeal to both sides first and foremost... Or witnessing the conflict between Ramos and his brother. Just several small things that only the furniture is really in position to notice or review against other things it's heard and seen."

"And you don't think it could be taken as evidence that I care for my Prince? That I guard him from himself, near at hand to take action if or when his control slips? That I counsel him in private when no other would dare? That Church and I worked in concert to ensure Ramos had his revenge against the bastard - " on that word, her voice turned harsh, " - who had the audacity to move against my Prince not once, but repeatedly?" She straightens, moving closer to Travis and crowding him again. "Do you think, ghoul, that this is why he risked making you a gift?" she whispers near his ear.

Travis is crowded, but not cowed. He waits a moment to ensure Mother is done, so he won’t interrupt before saying “Yes, however I never did say how you two may strike, or for whom. You chose to take it as being led down the path of opposing Ramos, and so I gave some of the testimony that I've seen things which could swing thoughts that way. Make no mistake, as I’m positive you know, that reaction is just as telling as you referencing a certain bastard whom you clearly dislike so you can use the agitation to the most effect in this portion of the conversation. I think a great many things, about a great many people... but I also know that you’re too intelligent, capable and well placed to ignore the fact that Prince Ramos has steadily become more of a rabid dog and less of a strong, controlled leader... and that is a trend I do not see changing any time in the remote future. Nor is it something that isn't catching...”

Mother takes a step back, regaining her composure possibly, though it's hard to tell with the mask in place. "And Andrew? What would you use to damn him?"

“Use to damn him... If anything was used to damn him, it would be nothing but the truth. I have yet to meet many in this world who are truly and honestly innocent, often those who come closest are simply seeking to atone for their past.”

"Andrew is... Andrew." There is a distinctly fond tone in her voice when she says his name the second time. She shakes her head; time to pluck a different string. "How do you feel about what happened tonight, the decision that was made?"

“I believe how I feel isn't very relevant, and that is how I feel.”

"It's relevant to me."

“I am still uncertain how to feel... conflicted in that way. It did, however, answer a question I’d seen to ask some months ago internally.”

"And what question was that?" Mother's voice has returned to it's gentle tone.

“Who would act first, move first, to take me.”

"Are you disappointed?" 

“I can’t say I am overly... the circumstances may have been otherwise... but the result is the result.”

"We were speaking of actions earlier... what do your actions speak of tonight?"

“Self evaluation now? We really are running the spectrum aren't we... My actions speak for who I am, what I am, and all of that, as they always have.”

"I do like to get to know my potential progeny," she replies with a wry chuckle. "And what do your actions say of your motivations and desires tonight?"

“Simply enough that I serve my Domitor, or rather seems served, to the best of my ability even potentially recklessly. I believe in acceptable risk for myself, but wouldn't place someone I respect into that circumstance unwittingly. I discharge my debts and duties even at risk. I observe, learn, apply...”

"When I asked for your watch, which contained a tracker, you handed it over without hesitation. When I asked for your weapon, your knife... you pulled out your other tracker, your phone, instead, and disabled it." She pauses. "What does that say, Travis?"

“It’s not over.” He almost smiles as he says that.

"What's not over?"

“Everything... the hunt... the game... If you must know I didn't wish to risk damage to my phone as I was still uncertain as to the fate of my watch at that time.”

Mother nods slowly. "I see. Well. Let's continue this portion of the game elsewhere then, shall we?" She holds her hand out to him again.

Exhaling slightly, Travis takes Mother’s hand again. “Very well.”

"Your knife is in the bag with your clothing?" She pushes on the shelving unit, exposing a narrow entrance-way that leads into darkness.

“It was strapped inside my pants leg.”

"Good." She tucks the bag onto one of the shelves, guides Travis into the darkness, and closes the entrance behind them. "Follow me closely. This place is not safe for you alone."

Travis moves closely to Mother, waiting to follow. “Understood.”

"I'd hate for you to come this far, just to have you fall and break your neck." No lights are turned on; Mother seems to navigate by touch, or from walking through the twisting passages so often. "Or be eaten." 

Travis places his hand in the middle of Mother’s back, keeping a bend in his arm so he can react if she turns this way or that but also enough of one so he can stop if she does suddenly.

"With any luck, Andrew will be joining us soon, and we can get you secured."

“Andrew and secured... a joyous sentence that was.”

"Do you have an issue with Andrew?"

“The immediate mental imagery was not the most pleasant of thoughts...”

Mother chuckles silently, but is clear to the hand on her back. "Oh, I don't know... I rather enjoy thinking of you and Andrew..."

Travis sighs “I won’t say I have issues with Andrew... but he is not on the list of people I do like... let alone would sleep with if it wasn't a matter of national security.”

"Why don't you like Andrew?" Mother asks, her tone curious rather than hostile. "You said he was honest earlier."

“I couldn't quite say exactly... but there’s always been something about him and his actions that gives me the feeling to not lower my guard around him... the kind of feeling that makes you carry a concealed weapon into what’s supposed to be a mundane meeting for a trade... and later give thanks to that feeling because you needed the weapon to extract yourself safely.”

"That's not Andrew. That's the Tremere blood." This time, there is hostility in her voice.

“I wouldn't go that far... while I always made it a point of having a plan and course of action figured out when alone with Olivia, I never had the nagging feeling to be armed and ready.”

"Olivia's young. And the Tremere don't have much interest in her, except as a tool, used to manipulate others."

“Didn't, she was sent off to Vienna.”

Mother stops short, and turns. "When?"

“Very recently.”

"Fuck," Mother mutters under her breath, and turns back to the corridors, her pace quicker now as she pulls Travis along behind her.

The darkness conceals the start at Mother’s reaction before he picks up his pace to avoid being dragged or pulled as he follows along.

"Tell me what you know about Edward." Her voice isn't kind or thoughtful now, it's tense, almost demanding, as they weave down passages and tunnels.

"Edward... I haven't had much dealings or interactions with him present. From what I know he's a power, but not a welcome power by those who he has power over. He plays the role of the historical conservative, but seems willing and able to move in more modern ways where it benefits him and his goals. He tries to maintain a unique network of informants which he can then use the fruits of to dole out tidbits so he can control who seeks what and take credit if not the fruits outright... He'd be a Republican in the United States, or an Ultra Conservative member of the PC here."

"Arrived in the city in 1804. He is a fine example of that 'Tremere blood' I mentioned earlier." Mother continues through the passages, slowing only to ensure Travis's safety. "He brought that poor childe here to try to manipulate Andrew. Apparently it wasn't as effective as he had hoped."

“Manipulate Andrew, or place him in controlled pressure situations to monitor how he responds and reacts... he does come across quite self assured but not ignorant.” Travis moves remarkably well in absolute darkness.

"Andrew, or Edward?"

“We have been discussing Edward...”

"We have, but you sometimes distinguish between a question asked, and inferring with your answer."

“True enough, however there is no present need to infer otherwise.”

"Putting them together just to test them and see what happens." For a moment, Mother's back is tight with tension under Travis's hand.

“Precisely my inference on the subject of Edward... it was why I paused before answering.”

"Treating them like nothing more than lab rats. Using their emotions, toying with them. This, this is the greatest evil of our kind," she snarls.

“It is one of the greatest evils of any and all kind... however it sometimes takes an outside eye to note things.”

"It's a vile way to treat someone. Anyone." They travel perhaps another block - it's difficult to tell underground. "He never should have been taken by them," she growls. 

Travis chooses to remain silent as they advance, this juncture seeming best to let Mother say what she will as she will.

Her foul mood continues until they come to a junction that is lit, apparently with some sort of phosphorescence, since there's no discernible light source. She pushes an iron bar, and although it moves, it doesn't seem to do anything to their surroundings. She leads Travis around a corner, down stairs, through more corridors, occasionally pushing or pulling levers or chain pulleys that don't seem to do anything. They pass through an area that is pitch black, and from the echoes quite large, and then into passages and hallways again until they turn a corner, and she pushes a section of wall. 

It swings inward to a warm, almost cozy room, as though someone had taken a cold stone room from a fort and turned it into a rustic living space, with quilts on the walls and soft-looking furniture. There is electricity here, and two lamps provide light to the area. There's a desk with a closed laptop, a sofa, and two easy chairs.

Travis blinks to clear his vision once the lit room is opened, looking around with interest and taking advantage of the bleeding light to take note of things just outside of the chamber.

"You'll know this place well enough soon, Travis. No need to try to see it all tonight," Mother chastises gently, her mood apparently improved. She pushes the wall section closed. "Would you like anything? Water, food?"

“Perhaps a drink, if you could, it has been a long evening thus far...”

"Certainly." She pulls aside a quilt to reveal a small cubbyhole with a sink and a small cabinet above. She pours him a glass of water, and passes it to him. "Please, make yourself comfortable."

Travis takes the glass, swirling the water around inside of it as he watches and feels it before moving towards an easy chair. Taking a sip of the water, he slowly tastes and swallows it before settling into the seat.

"Do you have any questions for me?" She sits in the corner of the sofa closest to Travis. "Anything you'd like to know, anything you're worried about?"

“I would have to say that my largest concern is that while I have a good idea of the type of vampire you are, personality and behaviour wise, I have very little idea of who you are or what it is to be Nosferatu... Olivia gave me some information on the Tremere, and of course I know details about the Followers of Set and the Giovanni... trade knowledge that... but little otherwise.”

"What would you like to know? Don't be vague, little one. You can ask questions here," she says kindly.

“The ideal answer is everything, however I don’t expect this session in particular shall have that amount of time available... So I will settle for as much as you’re willing to share at this juncture.”

"Hmm... The Nosferatu, traditionally, are information gatherers. We watch, we think, we put pieces together."

“That sounds like some of what I have learned, but experience has shown a different face than that of education, at least locally by and large. It almost seemed you were an exception, as opposed to the rule.”

"No, my dear, I'm just not as spry as the younger ones," Mother chuckles. "I was more prone to getting into mischief when I was younger, too, but then, I was raised by her Grace, so I've always been a bit more... reserved... in public." She shifts a bit. "And some of the things you've seen haven't necessarily been what we wanted to do, but what we were asked to do."

“A curious predicament that... So, you were raised by the Nosferatu Justicar I would infer by the use of her Grace and your own identity. Interesting.”

Mother nods. "I was. And it was, or is, interesting, yes. Never a dull moment."

“Of that I have little doubt. Perhaps more about yourself then?”

"In my mortal years, I was a spy for the English. I caught someone's attention... and here I am. I'm the Nosferatu Clanhead of Canada. I've been in Saint John since... hm... the late 1700s, early 1800s. I have several childer. Some are still here, some have gone exploring."

“Interesting, so where you here before here became an actual official place? What does this position of Clan Head signify and mean?”

"I came here not long after the Sabbat were pushed out. Ramos was already the Prince, so you can see how I've gotten rather accustomed to him." She tilts her head. "I suppose, the Setites wouldn't have a Clanhead... If there are Princes who overstep their bounds in their treatment of my clan, I can intervene, or if a clanmate needs assistance, they can reach out to me for help."

Travis nods “Sounds like a topic that will need more information, much like the topic of the Camarilla as a whole... it’s one thing to know basics, another details.”

"That's true. It'll be quite a transition for you, to go from one of the independent clans to the line of the Justicar." She tilts her head. "Were you taught The Traditions?"

“In a more basic form, not the likely nuances expected of a full Camarilla Vampire. They still matter to Independents, but aren't a daily consideration unless spending time at court.”

She nods. "Well, we'll have plenty of time to teach you." She shifts forward on the sofa, closer to Travis. "Perhaps we should discuss why you're here."

“Yes, I believe there’s been sufficient idle conversation and small talk before the thrust of the matter and conversation.” He affects a small smile before finishing his glass of water and setting it to the side.

“Of course, there’s much that is unknown to come and about this situation. There’s many things that can, may and will change. That doesn't mean I am frozen and incapable of acting however.”

"Many people act rashly, or dangerously, when they're afraid." She touches his hand. "I don't want you to be afraid, Travis. How can I help you?"

“This is normal fear and separation anxiety... nothing I cannot handle, training and experience after all.”

"Really? Training and experience? Tell me about it."

“Well I started off my adult life as a soldier of the Royal Canadian Armed Forces during World War 2, towards the end of the War I was transferred to serve with the O.S.S. for the remainder of the War. After the conclusion of the War I was assigned detached duty on loan to the United States as the O.S.S. became Strategic Resources prior to demilitarization of such services and the formation of their CIA. At the end of that term of duty I returned home, taking a brief respite, before joining the RCMP serving in our Counter Terrorist and Espionage unit before the FLQ incident saw the disbanding of the unit and the formation of CSIS. I've served as an operative of CSIS, technically still am just as I am technically still and RCMP officer, and also on detached duty as an auxiliary and active part of JTF-2. The last I didn't do as long or often as desired as something happened to burn my identity’s connections and put it on a Black List where it’s almost Persona non grata... that’s the point I stopped serving Ahmose’s interests abroad and gathering information for him and his allies and became more of the agent I have been for the past 30 years.”

Mother seems more intent the further into the story Travis gets. At the end, she tilts her head back and laughs. "No wonder I like you," she chuckles, squeezing his hand. "Andrew was in the war too, one of them. Or maybe both. I didn't see him as often then." She strokes Travis's fingers. "When did you become a ghoul?"

“Shortly after the conclusion to the War itself... before the attache assignment was given, but after the fall of Berlin. There was a stretch of time that saw me mustered at one of the nearby former bases, and that’s when Ahmose first approached me.”

"I wish we'd found you first. You're lovely. And tell me about serving Ahmose... what was that like?"

“It was interesting, for the most part it coincided with my desires and plans until the recent years. It wasn't difficult or trying, he benefited greatly, so I've been allowed a fair amount of autonomy to act and re-act.”

"What were your desires and plans?" Mother asks curiously.

“I’d found my calling as an operative... dealing with problems that couldn't be handled openly, directly, or with overt force.”

"And the less... savoury... things I've heard about the Setites... do you have any addictions?"

“Nothing I haven’t kicked the habit of after finding the detrimental effects of... and nothing serious even then.”

"Good, good. Rumours spread, and some of them are... well, unpleasant, to say the least." She pulls her phone out of her pocket, checks it and pauses for a moment before putting it away.

“Rumours seem to be the fuel that drives much of the politics between Vampires... and considering that and, well, Vampires, I cannot say I’m surprised to hear some of them are unpleasant.”

"I'm sure you've heard a few rumours about the Nosferatu over the years..."

"Such as how they may abduct me and lead me into their subterranean lair... However it never mentioned chairs or fresh water."

"Well, we have to keep some secrets to ourselves," Mother chuckles. "Can't have everyone knowing I like a hot bath now and then."

"It would destroy the illusion."

Mother chuckles. "It would, a bit, wouldn't it?" She tilts her head. "How close are you and Ahmose?"

"Colleagues and Allies."

"Well now... that is a pity."

“What do you mean that it is a pity?”

"It sounds like a tiresome way to spend fifty years... Loving someone, but being kept at a distance."

“There was always the work, and for most of it I was not often here. Typically abroad somewhere.”

"Still, knowing that when you came back, there would be nothing more than that..." She shakes her head. 

“Ahh, I didn't realize we had already reached the psychological evaluation, adjustment and alteration phase of the conversation. I would expect you already know that agents since the beginning of the age of War are generally best products of damaged or broken family lives, and as such place differing values and connections to emotions some take for granted.”

"It was enough to know you were doing a good job?"

“It was a satisfying job, and it often had perks.”

"Travel to new places, meet new people?"

“Sample the exotic, experience new and changing cultures, remove threats to yourself, your allies and your nation.”

"Your nation?"

“Of course, I was still employed to do a job, even while a ghoul.”

Mother nods again, "Ah, yes. And Ahmose is the only domitor you've had?"

“That is correct.”

Mother is silent for a moment. "Do you want to be a vampire, Travis?"

“Of that, I am uncertain...” Travis lapses off into silence as he says that in a quiet voice.

"Have you enjoyed living past your years? Or is it something you've simply tolerated?"

Travis looks pointedly at Mother’s masked face and says “Can you honestly say that no matter how I answer that, being made a Vampire will alter how I view and deal with my existence?”

"Being made a vampire changes a great many things, Travis, you need look no further than the Malkavians to see that. Time changes things. The Beast changes things. I want to know if you've enjoyed your extended years thus far, or if you've longed for death but pushed it aside for Ahmose's sake."

“If I wanted death, if I longed for death, I would never have made the Devil’s Bargain in the first place. Or opted out of it at most any time. While my services have been of aide to Ahmose in recent days, they haven’t been the difference between his life and death as they had in the past. Most of his foes have long moved past that goal, or moved past existence.”

"But you don't know if you want to take that next step, and become one of us."

“I do not, I've seen many reasons to not desire it... such as Ramos’ slow descent into violent madness and mania... the fall of James from being a vampire of potential and ability to a leashed, blinded and then slowly more feral dog... The soulless self absorption of those like Mick and the indignities and abuses he and his have heaped on those like Elizabeth who have the misfortune of aiding them... and others.”

"Tell me about the others."

“The callous abuses of power to belittle and cripple those without such as when a verbal misstep by a certain Assamite was turned into a near declaration of war and threat of death by Andrew. The scrambles to claim, secure, built, take, secure and continue such petty power and dominance over things many would consider base requirements.”

"And where do I fall among these creatures?"

“You haven’t seemed to do anything, yet, but you are also not always seen. As well, you support others who have acted in these ways.”

"Which actions have I supported, Travis?"

“I spoke of you supporting those who have taken those actions, not that you have done any yourself, and not spoken against. Thus the open perception that if you support them, and don’t openly disapprove of such actions, you support them by tacit silence and the unchanging nature of those involved in the events.”

"So, because I do not voice my disagreements publicly, I must then support everything that is done by those I care for, or who are under my care. Interesting." She tilts her head. "Are all modern mortals like that? Must everything be on view, everything broadcast, and nothing kept private?"

"It's not just a trait of mortals, or even just modern ones. It has, however, been carefully cultivated and selectively bred and trained for now so as to be a very common trait as opposed to uncommon or common. It's not a new phenomenon by any means, and has been a motive for revolution, revolt and assassination. Despite being told, and in far less often points in lives as opposed to before, to not believe everything you hear, and less what you read, many believe everything they hear and read. Without question, without thought. Pick up any newspaper today, you'll see articles on issues that would never have happened if people stopped, doubted, and looked into things beyond the thin layer presented by news, leaders and other forms of media. Fear dictates the reactions of the masses, Vampire or Mortal, so to control them an ongoing campaign of indoctrination of fear of the unknown, fear of lack of leadership and fear of being seen as an enemy for expressing doubts or concerns has been constant. Can you honestly say that such fears haven't been a part of what many of the Pillar Clans have used to build their positions and keep the young in line? Added to the vague hope of one day being a policy maker in some form, to be valued as more than others in the system as the carrot to the stick of fear. Some, certain, clans may hold to the truth and seek to share it. However one clan is no longer called Seers and now referred to as Madmen... As if a more absolute truth in these days isn't madness because society accepts the lies and makes them sanity. Another might in fact horde knowledge of the truth, choosing only to share it for the right price, or the right moment. Both things that leave the masses trapped by the filters they have been indoctrinated into using instead of their own minds and voices... Trapping them behind the idiotic law that Seeing Is Believing."

Travis pauses a moment after his verbose stretch before adding.

"Thus does it bring the majority to believe what disagreement they do not see or hear to mean instead that those who support people and vampires that act, must support all they do as well. Thusly does Elizabeth voice her disapproval of actions taken by Mick and Church in a manner unbecoming for your typical ghoul, both because she doesn't view herself as theirs, and so she is not painted quickly with the same brush as their actions paint them. So the masses, the unthinking majority which squanders it's education, do not simply assume she supports everything they do."

"But you see deeper, Travis. You know not to assume the surface is the truth, you're trained to look beyond. So, I ask you again... where do I fall among these creatures? Am I slowly descending into violent madness and mania? Am I turning feral? Do I abuse my power, belittle others?"

“So far, no, you have not. However those you are with and around have.”

"So, if we have established what I am not... what am I?"

“You are a duck.” After a very brief pause, Travis continues. “An odd duck, Singular, unlike the vast majority of those Vampires I have met and dealt with, you do not seem to be but one main aspect of Ego or ID writ large. The fact that you are is perhaps the sole reason I haven’t taken action to end myself and prevent the potential future... while the fact you are singular, fuels my dread.”

"Oh, my dear," Mother says softly, taking his hand in hers. "My dear childe. I assure you, I'm not singular. We just need to introduce you to a better selection of kindred. Nosferatu aren't like other kindred, little one."

“Thus far I've seen three members of Clan Nosferatu and two hangers on, one whom is Tremere, the other I’m not quite certain of. Of those, the only one who shows any constancy that belies my dread is yourself.”

"They are hardly the only kindred in the world," Mother replies, but she sounds distracted. "Who aren't you sure of?"

“Rook, he is not Nosferatu... but I can’t place his blood at the moment... but I haven’t had the desire to focus on looking into it either. He is a question mark, but not one that it seems worthy of being worried about based on his behaviour, interests and mannerisms.”

Mother tilts her head curiously. "What makes you say he's not Nosferatu?"

“His behaviours, interests and mannerisms, his nature and his displayed abilities.”

"Really? Other than taunting Andrew, I wasn't aware he'd revealed much of himself at all. Can you give me examples?"

“Some of the things he’s looked into for one... or rather the how he’s gone about looking into it, and the nature of the questions he’s asked. The position he’s operated out of is another one, not in your society, but at large, and how he’s used it beyond normal service. How he’s reacted to certain aspects of the Giovanni when they've been in attendance, but rarely others like it which disillusions one to thinking of an easier answer.”

"Interesting...." Mother taps the lips of her mask with her gloved hand. 

Travis simply sits quietly, watching.

"Do you think anyone else shares your suspicion?"

“Do I believe others have suspicions, yes, do I believe they suspect he’s not what he says he is, yes, do I believe they suspect he’s not Nosferatu, no.”

"What is it they suspect, then?"

“I expect that many wrote it off as simply something similar to the situation with Ali, a false identity to protect some facet of his nature or past... “

"Well, that's true, in a fashion... Do you remember when I said you weren't the first?"

“I do.”

"I'm surprised you didn't ask about it."

“I believe it falls under the category ‘All things in due time’, that you would elaborate when either the conversation came around to it, or when I asked later because it did not.”

"Now seems as good a time as any. Through the years, I've often been called upon to smuggle others out of dangerous situations. A practical, if unconventional, occupation for a Nosferatu. Sometimes, though not as often, ghouls have come to me to ask for help in escaping their situation. That's why I commented on some of your behaviours, things I've seen others do, actions that didn't match with the conversation at hand, like disabling your cell phone and giving it to me when I asked for your knife."

"It's a common trait among those wishing to be free of their domitor, or their regnant. I was removing one woman, long ago... while she told me how wonderful her regnant was, how well she was being treated, she handcuffed herself to me. Another was attempting to leave his sect, not the Camarilla, obviously, and while he railed about how his fellows would come to rescue him from me, put a stake in my hand and pressed it against his heart." She squeezes his hand lightly. "A blood bond is a difficult thing to live with, is it not?"

“While an interesting view on actions taken and what it might speak towards, I’m uncertain how this relates to the point in the conversation we had been at. Unless it was just seeking to move it beyond discussing Rook and what’s going on there. And yes, Blood Bonds are beyond doubt difficult things to live with, regardless of their circumstances.”

"We're still discussing him, and you. I removed him from a situation."

“I see, well each situation is no doubt unique.”

"Indeed. Sometimes, the issue is a bond gone sour... Sometimes, it's a more immediate threat."

Travis sits back slightly “A more immediate threat?”

"What do you think happens to a ghoul who doesn't obey every whim of feral, manic kindred prone to abuses of power?"

“The same two options that happen to Vampires who don’t obey every whim of said feral, manic Vampire prone to abuses of power.”

"Camarilla kindred have a few more layers of protection than ghouls. For instance, there's little that Mick could do to me without incurring the wrath of a Justicar, and he's not self-destructive enough to do that."

“Sometimes layers of protection don’t matter, such as the one about incurring the wrath of a Domitor by taking a ghoul from them”

"That would be the difference between the Camarilla, and an independent."

“Yes, history is rife with tales of such jack booted thuggery and it’s ultimate results... even if it takes even longer due to the lifespan of a vampire.”

"Harm to me would bring Archons and a Justicar to the city. Do you know what would happen if, for example, Mick were to give you an order, and you disobeyed?"

“Nothing without repercussions unless he was an Enforcer of your Sect, and even then if I had orders to the contrary. It’s the height of arrogance and abuse of power to believe that just because you speak to someone not of your group you can dictate how they exist.”

"A kindred, a Confirmed member of the Camarilla, would have been allowed to kill you without repercussions."

“I am not beholden to your Sect as I am not the property of a member of your Sect. Additionally, my standing orders tend to include provisos against simply doing what I’m told by any Tom, Dick, or Dead within a Month Vampire.”

"If you exist within Saint John, you are at the mercy of our quite Camarilla Prince."

“The Prince of a Domain is one thing, the Camarilla as a whole another entirely. I owe no debt of obligation, servitude or payment to the Camarilla, while more than a few owe such debts to my Domitor. I believe in the words of your own, the actions and rights of a Prince within his Domain are solely the discretion of the Prince. Mick, while thinking he is that powerful and influential, is not a Prince. If he, or others, sought to order me to do something and then attempt to slay me for refusing, I would not take it idly. Nor would it be acceptable socially for anyone less than a Prince’s level of authority to violate the Domain of another Vampire, being myself in this case, his acknowledged property, without social repercussions. Especially when the Social Conscience and the Prince are at cross purposes. Unless you’d rather change the thread of this conversation and sum it up as ‘Thou shall not suffer a witch to live.’”

"Do you really think that if a member of the Camarilla killed you, that the Prince would take any action to punish the one responsible? That he would take Ahmose's side against a member of his own sect?

“Do you think he could afford not to? I remember an incident not too long ago where the Justicar made it clear the problem and onus with Heart’s not being in the possession of their body is that of the Camarilla vampire who had it done, not the Setite who they had do it. Do you think that Ahmose might have debts owed to him by members of the Camarilla that they would be in as much trouble for ignoring as if they ignored a debt to you or the Prince? Do you really think that simply because you are Camarilla and others are not you can just get away with whatever you want? The height of Hypocrisy, Pride and Arrogance. Do I believe that any recompense for actions against me would be direct or immediate? No, I’m, as you are quite fond of bringing back up, merely a Ghoul, with no value or worth to you or yours beyond the fact you can abuse me and torture me, or kill me at a whim if you so desired and pretend there’d never be a price to pay.” Despite his words, Travis appears very calm and collected.

"And yet, Ramos gave you to me."

“I believe that argument is covered under your statement about the whims of feral, manic Kindred prone to abuses of power, augmented by my statement of the nature of the Prince of a Domain. Will there likely be some form of repercussion, certainly, but what form and kind I have no idea at present.”

Mother regards him for a moment. "No? You, of all creatures, cannot predict how Ahmose will react?"

“No. There’s a large sampling of potential directions he might take that I do know of, and that you do as well, but there are other potential options of how this will play out that aren't immediately obvious as well. There’s still a few too many undetermined factors to successfully predict what form his action will take, reliably, without a large margin for error. Rampant speculation is as dangerous, if not more so, than simply not knowing.”

"Will he try to harm you?" Mother asks, voice quiet but intent.

"I highly doubt it, there's always potential as a means of asset denial, but scorched earth has never been a portion of Ahmose's philosophy."

She squeezes his hand. "As long as you'll be safe, the rest can be dealt with."

Travis briefly gives a part smile. "I don't foresee any further risks at this point."

"Good." She squeezes his hand again. "I truly don't want to see you get hurt. Travis."

"I appreciate the sentiments.". He squeezes back slightly.

She sighs. "We'll have to make some arrangements to keep you safe, and to make your transition as... Well, as pleasant as possible, all things considered."

"I see, wouldn't want any troubles."

"I don't want to cause you any unnecessary trauma. I like you too much for that."

"Interesting, what forms of trauma are risked?"

Mother tilts her head. "Have you been fed from?"

"Yes, many a time while a ghoul."

"And have you ever been near death? Not from feeding, necessarily."

"More than once."

"Dying while experiencing the pleasure of The Kiss can be... disturbing. For others, the fear of The Embrace not working for some reason, or the sire changing their mind... For Nosferatu, the transformation afterwards can be quite uncomfortable."

“So it can be reliably said that the circumstances of the Embrace have an effect on the psyche, from deep trauma to a separation between Ego and ID that slowly becomes more pronounced... and not just among the Malkavian clan.”

Mother pauses. "I suppose it is possible... I've never had the opportunity to observe others as they give the Embrace, to see how they prepare their childer for the sensations and emotions involved."

“Simply an extrapolation based on witnessed behaviour and how some common vampire factors ignore clan boundaries, as previously discussed, and a little side research prior to this particular... exercise.”

"Really? Do tell."

"For example, look at the originally slow degradation of Ramos, the signs had been there for some time, but only over the last... Two years or so... Has it accelerated to the extent where he's become manic, rabid and power mad. Another example could be made of James, who began fairly controlled and more normal per standard society, but the more time and involvement with Camarilla society in specific, or Vampire in general saw him quickly begin to spiral out of control. Furthermore, we can look at specifics such as how many Toreador tend towards being one aspect of self writ large, until they become two dimensional, while the Ventrue become defined solely by their role and position in vampire society, no longer themselves... Chafing as Seneschal, but comfortable there we saw Elizabeth become an unmitigated bitch, lashing out to establish her dominance wherever she could. The Tremere become defined purely by their role in the clan, which determines how they interact with the larger society. Malkavians are somewhat the most... Normal... In the fact their madness doesn't often force them into such two dimensional action and thought."

"But how does that relate to the circumstance of the Embrace?"

"Such underlying mental and social fissures in the psyche are tied to larger traumas suffered by either the ID, or mental self, or the Ego, or social self. Or both. Sometimes such trauma can lie dormant until a change in pressures sets off a more... Tectonic... Reaction."

"Then let's try to avoid such things with you." She pats his hand. "Do you have any further questions?"

“Further questions, scads... I could keep talking for days seeking further details. However, let us thrust a bit to the point... What is my intended, or hoped for, purpose as your Childe?”

"For you to continue to be an effective, efficient member of our society, but more importantly, for you to be safe, and ideally, happy."

“Hmmm, interesting... how would one propose to continue to be an effective, efficient member of a society when returned to it at the lowest rung of a hierarchy based predominantly on vampiric age and established position?”

"Efficiency is rewarded, and even the youngest kindred is above a ghoul."

“Interesting concept, I have not seen it quite so fluid in action yet however.”

"Perhaps in this, we will trust in two centuries of experience, yes?"

“Perhaps... at least unless and until it proves otherwise. Same as any intelligence you can’t personally vet.”

"I can think of at least one agency within the Camarilla that would be very interested in your particular skillset... but we'll discuss that later, perhaps." She gestures to the water glass. "Would you like some more, or to use the facilities, perhaps? Should I offer you one last meal?"

“Perhaps, there are some conversations I can only... inquire towards, not set in motion. I wouldn't mind a little more before using the facilities... although the concept of a last meal is intriguing, simply because it further breaks the broken image of what amenities are available.”

Mother chuckles. "And I do so enjoy breaking those images." She fetches more water for Travis. "After your embrace, we have two options: you can stay here, and use this space as your own, or you can remain with me, in mine."

“I Imagine the perks and drawbacks vary between the two options...* he takes a slow, but deep sip of the water.* “so, what would the differences I could expect between them?”

"Well," she says, sitting down again, "here, you have some privacy to experience your physical changes alone, to adapt. I'd check on you periodically, to make sure you're all right. And you would be locked in, for your own safety. With me, you'd have no privacy, you'd be within arms reach at all times, but you'd have someone to help you immediately if you needed assistance, and we could continue our conversation."

“A difficult decision... although I do like the concept of privacy, even if just presumed, being forewarned and informed is to be forearmed and ready for what comes.” He drinks most of the rest of his water.

Mother tilts her head. "There is a small space in my rooms you could use for privacy, but it's quite barren. You'd be able to stand up or lie down in it, but not much else."

“Sounds no bigger than a traditional cell chamber, and I don’t mean dungeons.”

She nods. "In essence, except that you have more privacy. We could put a few quilts in, for some comfort. But again, you would be locked in. You'd be locked in staying with me as well, except that I'd be locked in with you," she chuckles. "But only until the danger of your situation passes, and then you would have the same freedoms as any other Nosferatu."

“Somehow I doubt it will be the last time I might be locked up... it certainly isn't the first. Well, I have need of the facilities, and then, I suppose, I would opt to go with yourself.”

Mother walks to another of the hanging quilts, and pulls it aside to reveal a small washroom; it's little more than a toilet, small sink, and showerhead with a drain below it. 

“Well, it’s better than most of the facilities in Budapest when you can’t stay at the ritzy hotels...” He walks into the revealed room, moving to relieve himself of the extra water he’s taken on over the night, back to you but not caring about the placement of the quilt. If undisturbed, he’d finish, tuck and zip, then wash his hands thoroughly before coming back out.

"We're usually more concerned about function than glamour, hence no doors, but plenty of blankets." She holds her hand out to Travis again. "I think this had best be done in my room, rather than here."

Travis nods, extending his hand to Mother. “Very well, in this location you would certainly know best.”

She leads him behind a quilt and out of the chamber, delving into the dark maze. "You'll be able to lie down, and we won't have to relocate for a while." Again, she seems to push stones or pull levers at random, as they seem to do nothing in the surrounding area. After fifteen minutes or so, and a series of sharp turns, she pushes a heavy steel door aside, revealing a warmly decorated parlour. She slides a large iron latch across the door and through a bracket attached to the wall. "There." She pulls out her phone again, and taps out a message.

“Interesting, both the present settings and the elaborate routine.”

"Oh?" She looks around. "Do other kindred not have comfortable living spaces?"

“Not all do, some overdo things trying to be lavish and instead wind up punishing themselves... others have no idea what comfort means.”

Mother looks around and shrugs. "There's no real need to be lavish down here. I'd rather drop onto a comfortable sofa than onto a pretty one." She walks over to another door. "Pretty has its place, no mistake, but it's not down here." She beckons for Travis.

Travis shrugs slightly, making his way over to this other door, and Mother.

She leads him into a bedroom. The walls are covered in quilts, much like the first room she had taken him to, but in the center of this room is a large bed, with carved stone posts at each corner that extend to the ceiling, supporting thick curtains. "Make yourself comfortable," she says closing the door behind them.

Travis walks a small circuit of the room, looking at things, then bed, then he sits on the edge of it. “Comfortable.” He says as he settles.

"But not lavish," Mother says, her tone light. She bars the door, and then reaches behind a quilt. A moment later, there's another sliding sound, but from outside the door. She crosses the room to sit beside Travis. "Are you ready?"

“Well, as you've already gone so far to set the environment and the mood... I am about as ready as I can be I suppose.”

"Better than having your head cracked against a brick wall and then being hauled into the reeking belly of a ship, isn't it?"

“I couldn't speak from personal experience, but I would imagine so...”

Mother chuckles as she crawls behind Travis. "I can, and it is." She rests her hands on his shoulders. "You may wish to remove your shirt."

Travis nods and slides the shirt back off, sighing slightly. “Well, of all the ways to end one’s time on the Mortal Coil... in bed is one of the best.”

The sound of Mother's chuckle changes as it is no longer muffled by the mask. "I couldn't agree more." A smooth, hairless arm slides around his torso. "Lean back, little one, and try to relax," she whispers in his ear.

A lifetime of training and experience riding the ragged edge doesn't lend itself well to really relaxing, although he does lean back slowly as he breathes evenly. “I will do what I can, no promises.”

"I've heard counting backwards from one hundred helps," she whispers against the side of his throat. "I'll try to ease your way."

With a wry chuckle he says “I appreciate it, however I also believe that the last thing I may want is to keep my mind active with something trivial and likely to spawn further thought processes.”

Mother's arm tightens around his chest. She runs the fingers of her other hand through his hair, gently urging him to tilt his head. "If you're concentrating on numbers, there's no room for fear," she whispers. "Or perhaps you're hoping to ride The Kiss to the end?"

“Perhaps... or find some other facet to grab firmly and hold to as my body endures the inevitable torment. Much like handling being tortured... find that spark that lets you sacrifice that time and place to save the more important whole of self.” He shivers slightly at the cool touches, tilting his head.

"What are you holding onto, Travis?" she whispers, and scrapes her fangs over his skin.

With a suppressed shiver he whispers “My Self.”

"Good, childe. Hold fast to it with both hands." She inhales deeply, sighs with pleasure, and presses her fangs into his throat until they pierce his skin.

Travis groans as the fangs press against him, arching with a gasp when they pierce skin.

Mother tries to be gentle with him; not squeezing his ribs too tightly, keeping her fingers light in his hair when she wants to tug and pull and gnaw. As she feeds, she uses the blood to warm herself.

Travis trembles, shuddering in pleasure with gasps and groans as you feed from him, especially when you contain your more bestial desires. His eyes, however, are narrowed... focused even as his body reacts and is allowed to have a voice.

She pulls her cloak around him, sharing her warmth as she steals it from him. As he grows pale, she slows, and then stops feeding from him, and licks the wound. "Still all right, little one?"

Shuddering, he slowly turns to look towards Mother as he says slowly. “I don’t believe... I ever felt this cold... even in Siberia...”

Mother is slightly more pink than the mask she usually wears, probably from warming herself with Travis's blood, and it looks unnatural against her shoulder-length dark hair. At first glance in the dim light, she seems to have no features at all, just a smooth flat surface where her face should be. This close, Travis would be able to see the short, blood-stained gash of her lipless mouth, and two small holes in the flat space where her nose might have been. Her skin is transparent where it covers completely over her eyes, and she has no ears. The effect isn't reptilian, though; even with the lack of features, the shape is still human.

Mother gently lays him back on the bed, and pulls quilts up over them both. "Not much longer," she whispers, stroking his cheek. Kneeling above him, she turns his head to the side and resumes feeding, using his blood to raise her temperature.

Travis resumes shuddering, but it’s weaker now, his blood no longer a torrent, but not quite yet just a trickle. He closes his eyes after taking in the sight of her and not reacting with more than a curious look and her turning his head to the side.

She pierces him in the same place as before, drawing harder at the wound this time as she feeds faster. The claw-like nails of one hand scrape lightly over his scalp, as she slips her other hand under his back, pulling him closer with a low growl.

He doesn't resist, he couldn't really with how little he has left, so rather than waste the effort he doesn't even try. He slides closer as she pulls, her fangs pushing in to the spot they had vacated as she works to draw the last of him out of his cooling body. His breath rattles slowly in his lungs as more and more of his body goes slack.

She moans as she drains the last of his blood. She sits back on her heels, his body held to her chest with one arm. She bites her own wrist, and presses it over his mouth. "Drink, Travis," she whispers.

Trembling weakly, he shudders as he forces his body to keep going. His first reaction isn't to drink, but it doesn't take more than a moment before he works his lips apart and the soft, light suction he can make can be felt against her wrist as he works to drink the offered blood. To not die here, now.

"That's it, little one," she whispers encouragingly in his ear, "that's it, good. Drink. Come back."

He drinks more, the tightness of his eye showing how painful the process is while he draws in her vitae hungrily, to defeat death even if it sparks the change.

Mother lowers him to the bed, cradling his head gently. "That's it." She clenches and unclenches her hand, willing blood to the wound. "That's it, little one, come back to me."

Travis grips a little stronger, drinking from the offered arm as he claws back from the brink, even if only before he succumbs to the change itself.

"Good, childe, good." She smooths his hair back with her free hand. "This, this I cannot predict. It may hurt, it may not, but I will stay with you. Can you hear me, Travis? You are not alone in this."

Travis turns to look at her, his eyes opening slightly, tears welled up and starting to leak as they slowly turn from clear to bloody red as his body still dies. He’d tried to hold back, but can’t any more as the last, weak gasp of air he’d taken in escapes in a weak moan of torment. One of Travis’ hands moves to his chest, gripping it at the shock of pain as the organ strains, then starts to go still, his grip tearing the shirt she’d given him and marking his flesh underneath from his potent grip. Body trembling as it starts to suffer from the wracking, wreaking pain of organ death, he forces air into his lungs with shallow gasps that come back out in what is at first whimpers and moans, but grows with each towards screaming agony as his eyes slam shut and his face contorts in agony.

"I know, childe, I know." Mother tries to ease his hand away from his chest with one hand, the other remaining at the top of his head. She struggles to maintain eye contact as long as she can, but as he begins to struggle, she holds him to her chest. "That's it, little one. Let it go. Don't fight it." She rocks him gently, maintaining a firm grip on him as he thrashes. "You're doing well, Travis, my little one, my precious childe. Not much longer. I'm here, pet, I'm here."

Travis’ body rocks against her, shuddering as his legs spasm and his arm leaves his chest to slam down against the bed. A sound, half grunt, half moan of pain leaves his lips as Travis keeps forcing air into his lungs to vocalize the agony of his body finishing dying and changing to it’s undead state. The cries and series of body and localized trembling and shakes go on for several minutes before he suddenly stills and goes silent again. Eyes stained with the red of his bloody tears of agony slowly open and look up at her.

She kisses his forehead when he goes still, then looks down at him with as much of a sympathetic expression as her lack of features will allow. "There you are, little one," she says softly, curling the cuff of her tunic over her hand to wipe the blood and tears from his face. "You did so well."

He closes his eyes slightly as she wipes the blood and tears from his face. When he opens them again he speaks, his voice hoarse from the vocalization of his pain. “That was... that was terrible. I couldn't imagine pain like that and I've suffered a fair amount of pain in my time.”

"I remember," she says softly. She lowers him to the bed, and rests her hand on his chest. "Rest here a moment, I'll get us a cloth."

He moves woodenly, trying to force his body to move and remember moving, as he places one of his hands briefly on hers. He looks at her and says “I do not believe I could do much more at this very moment...”

She pats his hand, then crosses the room to a quilt hung on the wall, revealing a small alcove like the ones Travis had seen earlier. She fetches a hand towel, and dampens it on one end before returning to the bed. She sits next to him, and carefully, gently, washes his face. "It's a feeling unlike any other," she agrees quietly. "Nothing you experience as a kindred will match it."

He lays there, letting it happen, still worn out from the experience and thankful to have taken in enough vitae not to be ravenous. “What do you mean? The embrace itself?”

She nods slowly, her gaze following her hand as she cleans him off. "Not staking, not torpor... perhaps the True Death, or being diablerized... but nothing will replace the vivid pain of your mortal death." She lightly pats his skin with the dry end of the cloth. "Are you hungry?"

He pauses, about to answer, then considering. “I feel something... not quite hunger like I felt not that long ago... but definitely not unlike it. If I consider it more directly, I feel this... urge... powerful and primal... welling up.”

"That would be the hunger." Mother pushes her sleeve back from her wrist, and offers it to him, the skin unbroken.

Travis takes Mother’s offered wrist in his hands, one sliding along it lightly, tracing the line of the typical vein as he leans in. He goes to bite and his first effort doesn't have much to show for it, not piercing the skin. So he pulls back and thinks a moment, then he leans in and opens his mouth wider as he closes his eyes, thinking about but not giving in to the hunger, and his fangs extend for him to close his mouth so he pierces skin and can drink.

Mother winces at his first attempt, but doesn't pull her wrist away. A sharp inhale marks his second attempt, and she exhales in a slow, pleased sigh. "Good, pet, so good." 

Travis definitely pauses at the pet comment, with a sigh he begins to feed slowly and carefully.

Mother strokes his hair as he feeds from her, and slowly, almost lazily, moves around his side to sit behind him. She leans against the headboard and pulls him backwards, taking care not to dislodge his mouth from her wrist. "Very good, my precious childe. Your bite..." Her train of thought drifts into a quiet moan of pleasure, much different than the sounds Travis made earlier. "You'll have no trouble with mortals."

Travis feeds from Mother, snuggling into her as she settles behind him with her arm in place. He seems to enjoy the act as much as the closeness as he drains some of Mother’s vitae before sliding his fangs out of her flesh and licking the remnants off his lips and teeth.

Mother scratches lightly at his scalp. "Rest while you can, little one," she advises, voice soft. "There's more to come, and I can't predict it any more than I could your death." She raises her wrist. "Lick the wound when you finish, so you leave no trace."

Travis nods and licks the wound lightly, closing it. “More... that sounds so... pleasant.”

"I know." She presses what might be a kiss against his temple; it's difficult to tell without lips to purse. "But you're still far too pretty to be a childe of mine." Mother strokes his cheek with the back of her fingers. "It's good to have a break, though. And if we're very fortunate, it won't take long."

It looks like the beginning of a smile, but it quickly becomes evident that a rictus of pain has instead captured Travis' features as his lips draw back and thin with it. The skin on his arms tightening, cracking almost audibly as patches of scales grow between the torn patches of his flesh. He inhales sharply through his nose as his eyes tighten with more pain he can't seem to vocalize as his lips lose both the hint of pale colour and fullness.

Mother murmurs near his ear, the words too soft to be distinct, but there's a cadence to it. She holds him, giving him her hands when his fists clench, helping him move when he stretches his limbs or curls in on himself. The rhythmic whispers stop, and she says clearly "I'm here, Travis, you're not alone, I'm here. I'm here, and you can feed again on the other side of this. Not much longer, my dear childe." Her voice falls back to a whisper: "Not much longer, please," and then fades to indistinct muttering.

The process goes on an indeterminate amount of time, more scales parting his flesh along his arms and legs. Covering the back of his hands and the top of his feet as he kicked off the boots to try and relieve the pain of the change. His eyes a little more sunken, a hint of reptilian cast to them, scales covering his lower face and becoming lighter and fainter the further up they come past his now thinned lips. His nose reduced in size, but still present, not quite the thin nostril slits of a full reptile, and his hair seemingly fully intact.

Mother slides her hands over his skin, easing the flesh away from scales, brushing the papery curls from the bed onto the floor. "That's it, childe, you're doing so well," she croons to him now and then, continuing to murmur under her breath between comments to Travis. 

Mother's head jerks up when she hears a heavy scraping sound from the other side of the door, and her grip on Travis tightens, until, oddly, the bar on the inside of the door starts to move. 

\---

There's a safe path Mother has shown Andrew to get to her parlour; when he comes to the first gate, though, it's closed and locked. Every one after it is locked as well, and he has to disengage and engage them all on his way in.

When he arrives in the parlour, a stone room with comfortable furniture and quilts on the walls to hide small alcoves and doors, the door to Mother's bedchamber is barred from the outside.


	2. June 14, 2014

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Nosferatu host gathering in an abandoned subway station, and host a Symbel to find "the most important piece of information in the room". The Ventrue Prince, Ramos, finally succumbs in his struggle with his Beast, and a Nosferatu wight is released from the Warrens he once guarded.

Once the proverbial dust has settled (at least for the night), and Travis back with Mother, she has a private chat with Claude, then returns to Travis. "Well, tonight was... well... more eventful than I expected." She removes her mask. "Tell me, how did things go while you were with Claude?"

“Much as expected, first we stopped to pick up some equipment at a storehouse so we could be prepared should we run into Ramos as I did not expect us to. When the Malkavian took us to the Tower, I already knew what to expect and was surprised that others were caught by surprise to discover one of Ramos’ other servants in place. He then contacted Andrew to arrange for her transportation and delivery. The actions that were taken were efficient, even when caught by surprise by some details they were unaware of.”

She nods. "Claude gave me some of the details." She looks at Travis silently for a moment. "Is there anything else you'd like to add?"

“I can’t think of anything worth adding at this time as I was mostly there to supply some equipment and lend aide.”

She rests her hand on his shoulder before sliding it up to cup the back of his neck. "I was... concerned."

“Why concerned? It was routine.”

"Nothing about tonight was routine."

“The traveling I did was... rather.”

Mother sighs, and pulls him closer till their foreheads are pressed together. "I'm relieved you're back," she says quietly. "I wasn't sure you would be."

“Why? The opportunity wasn’t precisely beneficial regardless.”

"Wasn't precisely beneficial?"

“What end would it serve? While the immediate benefit might be tangible, the long term is far less so as I would have others pursuing me”

"Yes... Yes, you would. And not just me." She sighs again, and pulls away from him. "You've hunted vampires before?"

"I had, in the past, yes. It has been useful knowledge.". With Mother pulling back he assumes more of a military at ease pose.

"What do you think our next steps should be?" She goes to a quilt and pulls it back, revealing a small cupboard. She pulls out a jar of peanut butter.

"Well, I don't anticipate Ramos will be difficult beyond the confrontation itself. Tracking his actions will be simple, especially combined with modern technology. The Architect will be more difficult, as we can mostly only rely on technology minutes after he'd been somewhere. Both will likely find a place to go to ground from which they'll strike, indicated by a concentration of events if allowed to go long enough."

"You don't think finding a vampire who can dissolve into shadows will be difficult to find?" Mother asks with an air of disbelief.

"There will be gaps in movement, but nothing serious as he's not truly a Lasombra, in wassail he's motivated by instinct not thought. He will feed when hungry with no regard for keeping himself from leaving any traces to find. He will fight with everything he has if confronted in any means that don't provoke a deep fear in his beast. He will likewise you any capability he has to escape and survive if that fear is forced upon him. A Wight is dangerous, but it is also often viewed as a blessing to true hunters as it can be plotted, mapped, predicted and trapped. It also is often let prey long enough to be put into an endgame gambit because it can be used to gain both internal support as well as popular support from the masses."

"He isn't a gambit," Mother mutters. "Either of them." She sets the peanut butter aside, cursing under her breath and pulling her phone out of her pocket. She sends a quick text, and puts it away. "At least he's not thinking. Ramos, I mean." She looks at Travis, and pauses. "How are you?" she asks quietly, her tone shifting from business-like to personal. 

“I framed it solely in the manner professional hunters would view it unless pressed to more immediate action.” He exhales slightly “I am well enough, I have little reason for complaint and I didn’t strain any of my resources.”

"I'm sorry if the chains made you uncomfortable, but in addition to the security, it sent a very clear message." She leans back against the wall. "Are you hungry?"

“Yes, a very clear message indeed... shame it seems many are too blinded by their personal views to observe it.” He shakes his head “No, I don’t feel hunger, I barely drew on my reserves and solely to penetrate the darkness Ramos threw up.”

Mother nods. "Good." She tilts her head. "How were you able to see through it to find Andrew? And why did you pull him out of it?"

“I retain certain abilities from before... and because... the risk was not worth the rewards in that situation...” He paused however, as if trying to analyze it himself.

"What risk, and what reward?"

“The risk of seeing a useful pi...player removed from the board versus the reward of potentially weakening Ramos.”

"A useful... piece?" Mother straightens. "Andrew is not a piece, useful or otherwise. He is a reasoning, thinking, feeling creature, just as you are, and just as deserving to be treated as such."

“Everyone is a piece in a larger game, regardless of the dressing and stage you cloak it in. The same goes for me, especially me, and any other.”

"Travis..." Mother steps close to him, and runs her fingers into his hair. "I hope, one day, that you will see things differently. That not everything is a game, that not everyone is a piece to be manipulated or used." She sighs. "Sometimes, existing is simply that. Sometimes, it's living, and enjoying the time you have with people you care for." She strokes his cheek with the side of her thumb. 

“Interesting, but not something I’ve had much experience with. If anything my experience shows me otherwise and that enjoyment has to be taken when you can because the board moves regardless of what you do or don’t do, and even if it doesn’t affect you directly, your pleasure can be stolen away.” He doesn’t shy away from the contact, but he doesn’t seem to be really enjoying it either.

Mother pauses, looking at him for a long moment. "Perhaps I'm just playing a different game, hmm? One where the goal is to surround myself with those I care for and to keep them safe?" She tilts her head slightly. "What's wrong?" she asks quietly.

“I’m still keyed up for one... the rush, similar to adrenaline, doesn’t seem to want to go away... like it’s fighting to stay.”

"And you don't think it's hunger..." Mother tilts her head the other way, still peering at him. "And you weren't injured earlier."

"No, more of a need to act out some aggression... to fight something, do something... an urge to..." He pauses, looking pensive "Destroy?"

Mother's hands are in his hair again in seconds. "That, that is the Beast. It will scratch and claw at you, ripping its way through you until you end up like Ramos, destroying everything you have ever cared about, but only if you let it get a foothold. You must suppress it, redirect into something useful, or find something that counters it and allows it to calm."

"Hmmm, interesting... it's one thing to know about something intellectually, another personally."

"I told you that you would feel things differently after the embrace," Mother reminds gently. "You must get used to pushing it down. It isn't like being human, where you can use the adrenaline. There is no safe way to give your Beast what it wants."

Travis nods slowly, rubbing his chin "As you say... it's still a fairly potent drive."

"As you saw tonight."

"Yes, as I saw tonight, and have seen before. Still my first time feeling it myself..."

Mother nods slowly. "It's a very powerful drive," she says softly. "It can be quite... compelling... especially if you have been wronged, or if someone you care for is in danger, or you are frightened or hungry. And over time, its siren call grows louder and louder, until it drowns everything else out, until you find yourself agreeing with it and welcoming it to the surface."

"Definitely a dangerous weakness..." He shakes his head and sighs slightly. "Nothing is ever easier."

"If life were easy, we wouldn't value it." She draws her hands down to the sides of his neck. "And you'll grow more accustomed to it, to ignoring it or pushing it away."

He shivers slightly at the touch, finally having worked out something that had taken most of his focus because he had to hold it exactly as it was until he knew to fight it or accept it or to use it. "As you say Mother..."

"It will take time, as all things do, and no two kindred do it the same way."

"This may be so, but I also know other routes of chaining the beast are discouraged among the halls of the Camarilla, so it falls to continuing to maintain my connection to my humanity which will likely be more difficult with a Beast to torment the actions and inactions I take."

Mother nods. "There are other methods, yes. For the most part, the Camarilla clings to its humanity... such as it is. It's the method I prefer, but you said yourself, I'm not quite like other kindred."

"No, you definitely are not..."

"I value my humanity, and I value it in others. It's... it's part of what draws me to Andrew, I think. And tonight, it's why I nearly embraced Betty, permission or no."

He nods, looking slightly wistful at the mention of Betty. "Everyone needs values of some form."

"I'm sorry about what happened to her. I knew you thought of her fondly. But at least Mick was able to revive her," Mother says gently.

"Yes, at least there is that to consider, good and ill."

"Perhaps... perhaps this will calm Mick and he can teach her as he should."

"One can only hope, for Elizabeth's sake at the least, fortunately she knows a fair amount already."

"So did you. But there are still surprises in store, things that are not what you might have expected."

"There's always surprises... always"

"How are you feeling now?" Mother asks, stroking the side of his neck with her thumb.

"Calmer would likely be the best description considering our conversation so far."

"Good." She squeezes lightly. "I'm curious; what did you use to push it back? Or was the distraction of conversation enough?"

Travis groans slightly at the squeeze then answers. “Will and reason, but as the conversation helped focus both, it played a part as well.”

"Good," Mother replies, and it sounds as though she might be smiling beneath her mask. "Now, when I asked what was wrong, you suggested there was more than one issue... what else is bothering you?"

“It is bothersome to find that while specifics may have changed, my position in ‘life’ hasn’t. If anything it’s more restrictive and forces a limited reactionary role.”

Mother nods slowly. "As time passes, you'll be given your freedom. For now, though..." She sighs. "For now, I need to keep you close, at least for the next two months. I want you to be safe. And free."

“Regardless of the sense to something, it doesn’t stop it being a bother.”

"Especially now, I know. There were quiet months over the past year when it wouldn't have made the slightest difference." She strokes her hand down over his shoulder, arm, and takes his hand. "Is there anything else troubling you?"

Travis would frown slightly, more in thought that negative reaction to anything so far, be it touch or conversation. “Perhaps separation anxiety... and I’m not just referring to Ahmose, although it is definitely in my mind.”

"Separation anxiety?"

“These are not exactly circumstances I know, nor do I have interactions or resources I could normally have at my disposal.”

Mother tilts her head. "And you're anxious that... you're separated from your usual methods of handling situations?"

“Among other things... but being unable to do more than twiddle my thumbs or give advice is trying.”

Mother nods as he speaks, but picks up on one phrase. "So you said.. but 'among other things'?"

“Well, there’s also the fact Olivia is now gone, and that I can’t see or interact with my allies. Beyond the immediacy of the severe threat presently out there.”

"Yes." Mother drops his hand. "I could speak to Andrew, see if there's a way to reach her."

“Due to the nature of their internal affairs, I doubt it would be of any use, and if it was, it would only be trouble regardless. I appreciate the offer, but it’s only a flight of fancy.”

Mother crosses the room to sit on a bench. "And Ahmose?" she asks quietly.

He sighs "Ahmose... I did mention that earlier too. No sign of him at all this evening..."

Patting the bench beside her, Mother asks "Were you expecting him?"

“Yes, at least in some capacity.” Travis says as he moves to sit on the bench beside Mother. “If not openly, then at least otherwise.”

She rests her arm across his shoulders. "I'm sorry that it hurts you," she says softly.

He sighs and leans in a bit. “It’s so... frustrating... and inconsistent... and driving... and distracting.”

"How so?"

“The bond... Ahmose...”

"Yes... but how is it inconsistent? How is it driving?"

“It’s inconsistent in it’s insistence... it’s pushes... not constant or only when attention wanes on other things. It’s driving as it pushes to look at ways out.”

Mother tilts her head, curious. "Tell me. When have you felt it strongest? When has it looked for a way out?"

“When I noticed Elizabeth missing from the gathering... when I saw the exchange between James and Al...Ramos... later when the news of how James was found came to us... again when Ramos fell to his beast.”

"Why do you think that is?"

“Developments... chaos...”

"Chaos makes us long for something familiar, even if it isn't something comforting."

“That could be it.”

"Do you have an alternate theory?"

“Not really, no.”

Mother nods once. "And how is it frustrating?"

“The same way any drive to act or react can be when you can’t do anything about it.”

"It will get easier with time, as the bond starts to fade." She looks at him. "Are you... concerned... about how it will feel to be unbound?"

“I have some, mainly around the concept of not being bound after so very long...”

"That's understandable, I think." She rests her other hand on Travis's. "We could replace the bond with one to me, and then carefully wean you off of it, so to speak, until you are comfortable acting as a free agent."

“Considering the length of time required to fully sever a bond... I appreciate the offer, but I believe Cold Turkey might be best.”

"It doesn't take that long, given our lifespans. After three months, the... intense... attachment begins to fade to something more manageable."

“After which point it takes another series of months with absolutely no contact to fade further... and then another full year with no contact to fade fully.”

"True," Mother says, nodding, "but it doesn't eliminate your free will, unless you wanted to harm me in some way."

“Who can say what may come to pass within the next few years... Law of Unintended Consequences and all that.” He sounds more conversational than hypothetical or considering.

"Bonds can be useful tools, to protect the thrall from those who would manipulate them." She runs her fingers through his absently. "They can be formed as a... side effect, when blood is an immediate necessity." 

"It is still a dangerous tool, double edged and capable of biting back when you least anticipate."

"For some, it could, and should. But I think it's a matter of being mindful of it, being aware... and of the regnant genuinely caring for the good of their thrall."

“If there’s as much problem as there seems to be with my bond to Ahmose, then it seems reasonable to simply work to avoid being bound altogether.”

"In an ideal world, yes. But the world is rarely ideal, and sometimes... sometimes we simply have to trust that those we care about will protect us."

“Interesting theory, not something I’ve ever seen in practical life.”

"You don't think so?" Mother asks, looking at him and tilting her head slightly.

“Not really.” He shrugs slightly “It takes a certain background and personality to be a long term, active duty agent.”

Mother pats his hand. "I hope to show you a different way of living," she replies quietly, "where someone does look out for you because they care for you."

"I can't say I look forward to it, no real experience to base it off, but I am curious to see what will come."

Mother presses a quick kiss to his shoulder. "We have plenty of time," she replies.

"Baring some other catastrophic event, not that the situation now isn't, but it is far from dire.". Travis lightly touches Mother's hand.

She turns her hand over so it's palm-up under his fingers. "You'll be fine."

Travis slides his fingers along Mother's palm before taking the hand in his own. "We shall see."

She hums in agreement. "Tell me what you observed tonight, minus the violence," she requests. "I'm curious how you viewed the events."

"Well, things began with the anticipated curiosity, especially with the newer faces and lack of many of the older ones. Mick, seeing an opportunity for perceived one upmanship, predictably leapt on spying the 'lost' painting. Similarly predictably he didn't consider costs before declaring he was purchasing it. This led to the curious but uninformed examining the painting and it's environs for some deeper meaning or mysticism, but no enlightenment came from it. Elizabeth seemed distracted, but unconcerned in the early portion of the evening, while Ramos was tense, terse and on edge from the moment he appeared in public. James seemed mostly unconcerned with most matters of real import, which made his reaction to Ramos taking him to task for a relatively petty reason, but his purview as Prince, completely predictable as it followed many similar paths of folly in the past."

Nodding slowly, Mother murmurs "Yes... James and Ramos..."

"Of course, things degraded from there rather swiftly. I'm unsure when James decided on a plan to try and turn the Architect on Ramos, but unfortunately for Elizabeth she was in his sights when he returned to act."

"You think it was James?"

"I do, the location he was found, amount of time that had passed, the discovered after effects..."

"I don't think James was malicious enough to risk The Architect attacking bystanders," Mother disagrees, shaking her head, "but I'll look into it. What else?"

"Depends how much of the ragged edge he'd been riding himself at that point, you mentioned the Beast being all rage and destruction. I expect he intended something with the Architect, perhaps just moving him to a certain section and then luring Ramos there, perhaps just unleashing him. James was often foolish in the degree he didn't reason the full plan out."

"If James simply wanted to move The Architect, he knew how to do so without putting others at risk. You would have learned, eventually."

"Again, doesn't mean he didn't do so, regardless of intentions. I doubt that the Architect simply chose now to escape, there was some facilitation, regardless of plan or intent. We do know James encountered the Architect last, before the escape, was left to be found."

"It is... unlikely, that after the warrens holding him for decades, he's just now chosen to break free, if he is able to make choices in his current state." She squeezes Travis's hand lightly. "What else?"

Travis squeezes back lightly. "Well, then Mick exploited the chaos of the moment to briefly crown himself Prince as part of his game of brinkmanship to force others to reveal their political hands and interests. Either to take the role he doesn't really desire from him, and thus let him continue to grow his power and influence, or to at the least expose their own agendas. Much as how the new Tremere primogen made it clear she supports Mick strongly, over Agatha."

"I don't like that girl."

“Well, let us see... reactionary... unreasoning... somewhat lacking in the deep thought category as well... I have no idea why you have that view, none what so ever... and that’s before the knee jerk ‘A Nos couldn’t do the job.’ statement she basically made.”

Mother leans into Travis for a moment. "For a moment, I thought you were talking about me," she chuckles, but then her tone grows sober. "She assumed we need a physical Prince, which shows how little she knows about Praxis, and about Nosferatu."

Travis kisses Mother's forehead. "Totally you... Yep."

Mother looks at him in surprise, blinks, and smiles. "Oh, definitely." Her thumb strokes over his. "What else?"

Travis rubs his thumb back "At that point I was mostly watching the Malkavians prodding and moving the painting around. So the majority of observations were already concluded, and the night was winding down. That was when I took Claude and the Malkavian to get some gear and pick up Ramos' female assistant."

Mother nods slowly. "Any conclusions about specific individuals, other than the Tremere Primogen?"

“Let’s see... Candy has poor impulse control, and doesn’t seem to think things fully through... but she is Brujah. The new Gangrel hasn’t demonstrated much of anything, even when he was present. I suspect the Malkavian who picked up the painting trying to discern it’s secrets, and failing to notice the item beneath it, is also the person who took the page from Mick’s book, he demonstrates a lack of wisdom or that voice of self preservation that keeps you from driving across the yellow line into a transport truck, another way would be to say without the good sense god gave a grasshopper. The other Malkavian, Aloyisius or something like that, seems to have a firmer grasp of himself and has useful skills with technology and applying the twisted vision that many Malkavians are gifted with. Due to his swiftness in ascending to Primogen for their clan, I suspect he has other plans as well. Of the three Malkavians he seems both the most useful and the most dangerous. Claude is quite determined, talented in his way, but sometimes his focus can be his undoing. Fortunately nothing came up this night, but it might in the future. I expect to witness more of his doings in the coming nights.”

"Alfie, I think his name is... the Malkavian." She looks over at Travis. "Nothing on your sire's folly?"

“Which one?”

Clenching a fist over her chest, Mother shakes her head. "I"m wounded."

“Hardly. Well, there is the option of how the other Nosferatu took my circumstances, even if they chose not to raise a fuss. There is you going to your knees before Ramos, on the verge of an even earlier collapse into Wassail, where you spoke not indirectly about myself and the bargain as it stood, inquiring due to James’ indiscretion. Additionally some may say focusing on Andrew and his safety while others were left to face the beast Ramos was folly, but most were too occupied to be even remotely aware. Perhaps you mean how Elizabeth’s fate was handled in that crisis situation, culminating in the rash and undisciplined actions of Mick leading to her Embrace... it all depends on the degree of folly and the perspective. I am hardly without sin in such regards either.”

"I've wondered if entering the room while Ramos was shouting at James was wise..."

“It’s never stopped you before, granted most of the time you were unseen to the particulars. However, it’s not as if you were in any serious threat at that time.”

"You don't think so? If Ramos had fallen at that time, who would have been close enough to assist?"

“Ramos, who in his Frenzy, chose to activate his Majesty first. I doubt he would have lashed out in much different of a manner, permitting you to extract yourself from the situation. Even if not, you weren’t precisely away from the group, you were maybe a dozen strides away from the majority of the gathering and by choosing to react with violence first, Ramos would be left open to being controlled or fought back against.”

Mother tilts her head, perhaps in agreement, it's hard to tell. "Were you surprised at how the other Nosferatu reacted to you?"

“Not very, it all seemed more or less to script as to what to expect from them with the stimulus provided.”

"The stimulus provided?"

“Myself, Travis, in chains in a confined area, sole details provided being it’s for my own good and my own safety.”

Mother pauses. "I didn't mention that I'd embraced you? Hmm. I thought I had. Still, clanhead says she's embraced someone, there isn't much room for disagreement. You don't think anyone outside the clan realised?"

“I believe some may think it so, but none are certain enough to commit to that view.”

"I'd rather not announce it yet. Let them keep wondering. And better that they underestimate you." She settles in a little closer. "I don't think anyone would be surprised that I put Andrew's safety above the rest."

“Surprised, no, disappointed, perhaps. Can’t truly tell unless you act outside the expected.”

"Disappointed didn't stop anyone from asking me to be Prince." She shakes her head. "Who would have been disappointed, save perhaps Agatha?"

“Perhaps myself...”

Mother's thumb stills. "Why? I knew where you were, and that you were safe..."

“Perhaps to see you act decisively, especially in defence of home and kin. It may just be a moment of fancy.”

She shakes her head. "I'm sorry, you lost me somewhere. How did my concern for Andrew's safety disappoint you?"

“In and of itself, it didn’t disappoint me, it was expected.”

"But..."

“But that doesn’t mean I didn’t wish to see more... see something other than that since Andrew’s well-being was secure...”

"You think I should have waded into darkness I couldn't see through?" Mother asks slowly, "Or do you think I should have been concerned with someone other than Andrew?"

“Perhaps one, perhaps both... the moment is gone now and it won’t be back to see if anything changes with more information.”

"Delving into a darkness I had no way to see through would have been pointless, don't you think?"

"In an unknown environment, certainly, however you did describe it as your living room."

"That doesn't mean I knew where each individual would be. And the subway station isn't my living room. More like... the village hall."

"I simply referred to it as you chose to when others arrived... And more than one of those people had glowing eyes, or where revealing themselves by throwing fire."

"And none of them were the individuals I cared about to keep safe."

“As frames of reference for where people were, not as being worthwhile in and of themselves.”

"But you think I should have gone in."

“I expressed disappointment, whether that would change or remain the same if you had gone in is outside of consideration since the time has passed. Instead you focused on those individuals who could only have been safer if the Wight was no more, however that is more of an object observation with full details that may not have been available at the time.”

"And if I had gone in, and fallen, either to Ramos or to my own Beast... what would have become of you?"

“I have extreme doubts that either would have happened in the slightest. The odds were more likely that Ramos would kill himself first.” Travis speaks with absolute conviction, as if there was no doubt you’d be fine regardless.

Mother smiles beneath her mask, and she squeezes Travis's hand. "So very confidant in that, are you?"

“I am, the variables in that situation were nothing beyond you or your consideration. I’m also reasonably certain that had I the equipment Claude and I got later on, Ramos could have been felled rather than stalled and fled.”

"As soon as we find him again, you'll have the opportunity to find out, if you wish."

“We shall have to see, likely I will but circumstances do change.”

Mother nods. "They do indeed. I may decide you're too valuable to risk... although this is precisely the sort of situation you were trained for."

“While I, personally, don’t believe there’s a non-manageable and mitigate able amount of risk to this situation, it’s clearly not my decision.”

"I didn't embrace you just to watch you die," she replies quietly. "We'll see how the situation pans out." She pats his hand. "You mentioned earlier that you had found the item everyone else missed. Have you looked at it yet?"

“You mean the yellow piece of paper I handed to you, which you then gave back to me and said it was for me? No, I had not. I had intended to read it before going to sleep while alone, to better parse and react.”

She nods, then pulls her phone out to check the time. "Which we'll need to do soon." Mother stands, and runs her fingers through the front of his hair. "I'm going to lock up."

Travis leans into the contact and nods “Very well then, it is about that time.”

She scratches lightly, careful with her claws. "Go make yourself comfortable. I'll be there in a moment." She slips out of the room to lock the Warren down. 

Travis stands, stretching out before going to the Cell he’s been sleeping in. He settles in to the Lotus position as he puts the details of the night in order in his mind and memory while he waits.

Sounds drift in from the Warrens - distant rumbles, metal scraping metal - the usual noises of the tunnels being secured for the day. The sequence seems to go on a bit longer than usual, though; it's almost half an hour before Mother's footsteps are heard again.

Travis stretches back out about half an hour later, just as he starts to hear Mother drawing closer again.

A few minutes later, Mother returns to the chamber. There's a sound of rustling fabric from her room, likely a quilt being moved, and then two solid thuds as the bars fall across the door. "Are you resting in there today?" she asks quietly.

“It seemed like a reasonable idea. Is that a problem then?”

She chuckles. "No, just curious." There's more sounds of rustling fabric. "Rest well, Travis."

“You as well, Mother.” Travis gets comfortable, taking out the note in private and reading it. He re-reads it before saying loud enough to be heard, but not as if yelled, more as if it came out as reaction louder than intended “Oh that bitch!” He continues to himself, but it’s muffled.

"Pardon?"

“I find myself moderately shocked by the content of the most important piece of information in the room... That is all.”

Mother chuckles as she removes her mask. "The Tremere thought it was a note from a Sabbat member she found... Mick no doubt thought it was the painting he would 'pay anything' for... The Malkavians were certainly fascinated by the painting..."

“No doubt had he remained of a mind to, he could have made a strong point as to how the painting worth almost anything in the world could be the most valuable piece of information in the room. The painting itself was nothing special, A Street Cafe in Paris has many original copies after all.”

"It wasn't the most important piece of information to me. And, hopefully, not to the one it was intended for."

“I didn’t say he would be Victorious, or correct, just he could have made a strong point...”

"I look forward to hearing your thoughts in the evening," Mother replies as she climbs into bed. "Assuming you need time to think about it."

“It would be best regardless, rather than rushing words and thoughts.”

"All right, little one." There's more sounds of rustling fabric. "Rest well, my childe."

“Rest well, Mother.”

_On a small square of yellow paper is written:_

__

"My Childe, 

Regardless of 

Circumstance 

Time 

Action 

Sect 

You will always be precious to me."


	3. June 15, 2014

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night after June 14. Mother finds out about Travis' secret cell phone.

Waking up, Travis would stretch then move quietly into the main room where he settles to meditate to bring his ‘dreams’ and thoughts back into focus, as he would most mornings. Of course, it could be observed he’s momentarily later than normal, but only a fleeting moment...

Mother is curled on her side, facing Travis's alcove, a quilt up and covering her until only her hair is visible. She's motionless when Travis enters the room.

Travis doesn’t say anything for some time, waiting patiently and watching, always watching.

There's a soft chime from under the covers. A moment later, the bundle stirs, and a muffled curse accompanies the muted tapping of someone typing on a phone.

At the chime, then curse and typing, Travis sits more upright and waits for the typing to finish before saying “Good Evening, Mother.”

Mother sits up, letting the blankets fall as they will around her. "How." It isn't so much a question as a quiet demand for information.

“During the outing I secured the means for contact and control of my contacts and allies. Multiple opportunities presented themselves for it, I simply availed myself of one for the device I used.”

"And aside from your... skill... at finding the Nosferatu's communications web, what else have you used it for?" Her voice isn't the typical warm tone she's been using with Travis over the past month; it's older, colder.

“I requested my people compile the data we had collected on Ramos and his network, and have it ready for me to request an eventual delivery. I’ve also put eyes out for both Ramos and the Architect, as their destruction is to the benefit of all, including myself, yourself and Ahmose.”

"And have you tried to contact him?"

“Not as of this time, there seems little point when doing so may lead to danger for him, either from two Servires who may seek to keep us apart, or from simply drawing him out where either Wight could attack while he is distracted.”

Mother nods slowly. "And why didn't you mention this... acquisition... to me last night?"

“It wouldn’t do to simply reveal something that you might take away... but then I saw some of the... Intelligence... shared and couldn’t remain silent.”

"I need to be able to trust you, Travis. I want to be able to trust you."

“Trust is earned, not given freely...”

"And is this moving us forward, or backward, do you think?" She doesn't sound so much angry as disappointed. 

“If anything, the initial move itself should be indeterminate, as it should be expected due to the nature of the circumstances. I mean, it’s not like I can be expected to just take it lying down when I’m taken off the streets and out of contact with those that rely on me for their livelihood or aide me on a day to day basis and typically require regular contact or they stop being contacts and allies. The actions that I may take with this, however, would speak far more to your moving forwards or backwards... do you not think?”

Mother shakes her head. "Not me, Travis. Us."

“Your as pejorative, not as the absolute. As in you stated it thusly, thus yours. That was what was meant and intended.”

Mother sighs, and holds out her hand. "Do you want to earn my trust, Travis?"

“I believe to this point I have done everything you’ve asked, but I can’t say I see where you’ve shown me any real chance to earn trust in truth. The closest we’ve come is my being sent with a handler to make sure I didn’t run off or escape, which I did not, while I’ve had to endure being on a chain and leash, while I’ve had to endure forced seclusion and disconnection from those that rely on me and who, thankfully, continue to serve me in the ways I need when asked.”

She leaves her hand extended. "Do you want to earn my trust, Travis?" she asks again quietly.

Travis reaches into his jeans and puts a smart phone into Mother’s hand.

Mother sets the phone beside her, and extends her hand again. "Do you want me to trust you?" she asks again.

Sighing, Travis puts his hand in hers. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

"Good. Then we can move forward with that understanding." With her free hand, she picks up the phone. "Can you promise me that you won't try to contact Ahmose?"

“I can’t promise absolutely, but I can say I will definitely make the effort not to... I am still bound after all, but the present circumstances won’t do him much good either.”

Mother waits a moment, looking at him, before she speaks. "I could assist you with that," she offers quietly.

“What do you mean?”

She looks down at their hands. "I could... give you a trigger that would only activate once your own will has failed you, so that you would come to me when the urge grows too strong for you to manage."

“That might be safer... potentially...”

"I'm sure we would both be happier if it never became necessary, but... the offer is there."

“Oh yes, absolutely happier if it never became necessary... it’s a double edged sword after all...”

"But do you trust me to wield it?"

“Trust must be earned... so I will acquiesce to you wielding it, putting trust in you to not abuse it.”

"Some kindred will take the memory of being mesmerized away. I think it best to let you remember it, so you know your trust in me was justified."

“That would be good, and appreciated.”

"I think 'when you begin to initiate contact with Ahmose, you will physically come to me and tell me' should cover it. Do you see any loopholes?"

Travis cups his chin between thumb and forefinger as he thinks critically on the wording and structure. He then says “I can’t see anything exploitable... as it should also cover physical discussion should it come up.”

"It should cover attempting to reach out by telephone as well as through an intermediary, and face-to-face communication."

“Indeed.”

"By your understanding, would this include responding if he contacts you?"

“A little more nebulous there, as it is still initiating contact when you start to respond... but it’s not initiating the contact as a whole.”

"If he contacts you, can I trust you to tell me?" Mother asks quietly, running her thumb across his fingers.

“I believe you can, I’ve already shared with you all the pertinent details of communications made since that night as they occurred, or as soon as it became relevant.”

"I hope so." Mother kisses the back of his hand. "You're my first childe in half a century, Travis," she says with a small sigh.

Travis lightly pats Mother’s hand, rubbing the back of it. “Hope is irrelevant, I honestly have.”

"I'd like to work with you for a long, long time." She looks down at their hands. "The last time I considered embracing, I watched him for... two decades."

Travis closes his hand on Mother’s “Dare I inquire as to how long you’ve actually been watching me?”

Mother chuckles. "Not quite since you entered the city, but not long after. More intently on the Ghost Ship." 

"Hmm, I did feel like there was even more there than seen, but was rather focused on events and thus didn't see you."

Mother shrugs. "I didn't want to be seen. But I did want to ensure James' safety... and yours."

“Well, that situation entirely turned out once things started to settle.”

Mother nods slowly. "Thankfully, yes."

Travis brings up one of Mother’s hands and kisses the back of it. “While I would like to say it was all under control, there were a few wrenches in the situation, not the least of which was James succumbing to frenzy due to the illusions of the Ghost.”

"Yes. Well. That won't be an issue any longer, will it."

“Community Watch was the beginning of a downward spiral.”

"He didn't want to be Sheriff," Mother agrees quietly. "But there were few viable choices."

“Depends on your end goal, it would have been just as feasible and a potential political stopgap to have named Mick the Sheriff for example.”

"It wasn't my choice." She gives Travis a rueful smile. "I may have been able to sway Ramos, but I could not make the decision for him."

“No, that you could not directly do. Nature of the beast.”

"He tried to relinquish the position three or four times, but Ramos refused to allow it."

“Interesting, I didn’t realize that enforced slavery was that prevalent in the Camarilla.”

Mother shrugs one shoulder. "It's a feudal society."

“A Knight could leave the service of his liege lord, it may not be a... pretty... outcome, but if someone makes an effort to leave a position, short term political fall out is preferable to long term survivability issues.”

"You saw what happened when James left the position."

“There’s leaving the position with will, and then there’s instigating confrontation. Spitting before Ramos, say the floor before him, would have had repercussions, spitting at and on Ramos resulted in a Blood Hunt.”

Mother nods. "I didn't have an opportunity to speak to either one to find out what lead to that level of confrontation... I was more concerned with protecting you," she admits, squeezing Travis's hand. 

“I can imagine it was related to the stresses of Ramos badgering and belittling someone who wasn’t very well equipped to do the job at a high level and was unable to and incapable of leaving the position despite recurring public insult.” Travis squeezes Mother’s hand in return.

"Yes, well," she says, "I can't help either of them now. Best not to dwell on it." She turns Travis's phone over in her hand. "But I can help you." She looks up at him. "Travis, when you begin to initiate contact with Ahmose, you will instead physically come to me and tell me," she says, her voice taking on a Mesmerizing tone. "Do you understand?"

“I understand, Mother.”

"Good childe." Mother holds out the cell phone for him.

Travis takes the cell phone, turning it over in his hands absently. “Thank you.”

"You're welcome." She looks at him carefully. "Are you all right?"

“I am, just a bit pensive... wondering what will come next and what form it will take. Previously when I have felt this way, I would find a place to think in quiet reflection to defeat the trepidation. Similar to ways of overcoming pre-action anxiety.”

Mother nods slowly. "Are you more concerned about the wights, or about contact with your former owner?"

“Hmmm both to varying degrees... so Yes.”

"Is there anything I can do to help you through it?"

“That is less certain than many other things... beyond the steps already taken.”

"I can go out to the main room, if you'd like to use this room rather than your space for meditation."

Travis leans over and kisses Mother on the forehead. “No need to go if you don’t wish to.”

"If I wasn't willing, I wouldn't have offered." She looks at Travis for a moment as though she's going to continue, but doesn't say anything further.

"What is it?" Travis asks, seeing the look and being curious and concerned.

"You're surprisingly affectionate for someone forced to endure physical bondage and seclusion." She tilts her head as she watches him with curiosity. 

"Perhaps simply Stockholm Syndrome setting in."

"Perhaps," Mother hums as she gently pulls her hand away from Travis's. "I shouldn't encourage it, then."

Travis simply chuckles to himself at that.

Standing, Mother says, "Feel free to stay and think, if you'd like. I have some calls to make." She exits to the main living area, leaving him to decide for himself.

Travis watches Mother leave, bringing up his phone to do some things rather than moving, already starting on it before Mother gets out.

From the main chamber, there are long moments of silence interspersed with the scurrying of paws and claws over the next hour.

Travis is largely silent in the chamber, eventually settling in to meditate rather than summoning snakes to be a jerk.

"Damn." The curse is quiet, but not secretive.

Travis opens an eye and calls out "I know it wasn't my actions, what is the issue?"

"Carlos. His phone's been disconnected."

“Hmm... an interesting development, not entirely shocking however considering the ending of the last meeting between the brothers Ramos. Ideally it’s simply because he’s laying low, but that can’t be relied on.”

"Ideally, and likely. It's not like his service would have been disconnected if he'd simply been killed in the past forty-eight hours." Mother sighs from the other room. "Still, it would have been nice to be able warn him."

“There’s also the potential Ramos the Prince began movements to remove his brother as an influence following those events, which may have left him disconnected and unprepared for the present circumstances which Wight Ramos may have taken advantage of... knowing his mortal brother would hesitate when he struck... the limitations of Carlos’ combat style against his form change... such predatory instincts are all possible in this scenario...”

Mother walks back to stand in the door to her room. "That would depend on Juliette. If she entered the fray, there's a possibility she could hide them both from Alexander, or drive Alexander away." She leans against the doorframe. "Or freeze and be nothing more then a target for Alexander and a liability for Carlos."

“The feeling I got from Juliette wasn’t one of being a continuing or future Victim of Alexander’s... however I had only minor contact.”

"She... she changed quite a bit, over time, and as Alexander changed." Mother tilts her head. "When did you meet her?"

“She has been around recently and I’ve encountered her about the city at those times...”

Mother watches Travis, waiting for more information.

“As opposed to simply running into people at Gatherings of the Vampires.”

"When, Travis? Were you meeting with her on behalf of your former owner?"

"It was more a few chance encounters than anything planned or thought up. Same place, same time."

Mother nods slowly. She crosses the room to the peanut butter she had pulled out of an alcove the night before, and returns to the main room.

Travis settles back in.

For the rest of the evening (or until Travis interrupts), there are very few sounds from the mail room other than small animal sounds - squeaks, scurries, and the like.

For the rest of the evening, there is no sound from the inner room and Travis at all.

At four-thirty, Mother re-enters her room. "Dawn comes soon, little one."

"Then it is a good time to retire I suppose."

"You can." Mother goes through her security routine. "You could keep me company, if you wish."

"Very well, I'll be company."

Mother smiles as she straightens the room. "How was your meditation?"

"It went well, centered myself after confirming my investigations by my agents."

"Good." Mother walks over, and climbs into the center of the bed. "You're no longer feeling unsettled?"

"No, things seem to be working out."

Mother seems genuinely pleased when she replies "Good."


	4. All About Andrew; July 12, 2014

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place after the city's kindred meet for the night.

My dearest Andrew,

My apologies that our conversation about Travis was interrupted by Mark and Betty. Usually I would not allow anything to interrupt us, but Mark had sounded particularly frantic, and rightfully so.

You had asked if Travis had agreed to be embraced.

I'm not certain why you would doubt my decency in this of all things. While I did not ask the specific question of "Do I have your permission to embrace you?", Travis and I had an hour long discussion (at least) before we retired to my chamber. We discussed his life thus far, his opinion of me and the other kindred of the city, politics, his Domitor, and what it would be like to be a Nosferatu. He was consistently agreeable and cooperative.

I hope this assuages your concern.

 

With my love,

Mother

\-----

Dearest Mother,

My love for you runs deep. Please never doubt it. You are very goal orientated, it is a facet of you I adore. You seldom allow the word no to dissuade you from your objectives. I know you well Mother. I love you deeply. Your strengths, your flaws, your perfection.  
I have always trusted your judgement, even when it has clashed with my own. I know you are not always "nice". Because I sometimes pretend to be ignorant does not mean I do not perceive all that you do that I wont or cannot. You have protected me from the uglier side of our danse macabre and I adore you for it. Let me then be more than your lover. Let me bear some of your burden.  
Why mother is Travis in chains? What can I do for him. What can I do for you? How can we undo these shackles?

With love

Andrew Stanum

\-----

My dearest Andrew,

Thank you for your kind words. While I may be quite focused at times, if Travis had given any indication that he did not wish to be embraced, I would not have done it. I would still have taken him from the Setite, true, but I would not have embraced him had he not been willing.

Travis is in chains for his own protection, and in part for the protection of me and mine. He is still bound to his former owner, and I have no wish to see him back in the situation from which I just extracted him. The chains will come off in three months, at which point I will replace the Setite's bond with my own to help Travis adjust. Once I am confidant he can and will survive and thrive on his own, I will allow the bond to fade.

Travis has a strong sense of self, and of self-preservation. He's intelligent, observant, contemplative, and knowledgeable in a surprisingly varied number of subjects. How could I allow that to be squandered by a Setite who valued him so little as to allow him to attend a Camarilla court alone?

I thank you for your patience and understanding in the coming months while my childe comes into his own. This is the first time I have embraced since we've been together, and I realise it may be uncomfortable for you, to have my attentions divided. Trust that you are precious to me, and that I love you.

Affectionately,  
Mother

\-----

Dear Mother,

I am pleased to know Travis willingly entered into the clan. Be wary of him though. I fear he may be a treacherous childe. 

Would it be possible for me to observe the degradation of the bond to his former domitor? It may provide mystical insights into the kindred nature and provide mystical knowledge. I promise all tests will be non-invasive.

 

\-----

My dearest Andrew,

Thank you for your concern. Your care warms my heart. 

Thus far, I have found him to be surprisingly honest. I cannot trust him with some things, of course, until the Bond has faded. 

You are, naturally, welcome to visit at any time, and what you observe unobtrusively is what you observe. If this observation would require interaction with Travis by mentioning his former Domitor where he can hear you, for example, then I would ask that we have Travis's consent first. I am trying to teach him to trust, and conducting tests on him without his permission would undermine that.

I would be very interested in your opinions on Travis and his behaviour; as an outside party, you have a different point of view than I do as his sire, and you can see things that I cannot. For example, why did he pull you out of the room after Ramos had lost himself to frenzy?

With my love,  
Mother

\-----

Thank you Mother,

I would not dream of doing anything that would cause Travis harm. Any such experimentation would of course have to be with his permission. 

My surmise as to his motivations may be due to his familial bond to you Mother. Travis and I are also if not friendly then at least copacetic. I believe the lack of animosity may have also played a role. We have worked well together in the past. Travis does not wastefully toss assets aside. Time will tell how much of his personality was his and how much the blood bond. 

Will you be strengthening your ties to him after the bond to his former Domitor has faded? I would like to observe when this happens. The properties of kindred blood, I am sure, is key to understanding.

\-----

My dearest Andrew,

Once the wights have been put to rest, we will speak with Travis about observing the bond.

At this point, I'm not sure any familial bonding would have much of an effect, with Ahmose's blood still in his soul. But, if my blood does have some small influence on him, I am thankful for it, as it saved you. And I agree, Travis is quite practical when it comes to alliances and assets. 

I look forward to getting to know Travis without the Setite's interference. He'd been with him since shortly after WWII, quite a long time to be influenced by one individual. 

Once his ties to Ahmose begin to fade, yes, I plan to bond him to me, at least while he transitions from being bound as a Setite ghoul to being a Nosferatu kindred. I think it would help him. Once he has adjusted, I will allow his bond to me to fade naturally. When the time comes, we will discuss the formation of the bond with Travis.

With my love,  
Mother

 

\-----

When they return to the Warrens, Mother seems tense, almost to the point of distraction.

Travis watches Mother, not speaking, but knowing she’ll likely break the silence soon enough on her own. While waiting he plugs away from time to time on his phone.

"Mick knows." Mother paces as she speaks, cloak flowing behind her. "Claude told him that you've been embraced."

“Interesting development, it does explain the agitation and tense energy. So, what does this mean, what does it change, and what do we do now?”

"That depends on Mick. If he says nothing, we continue as we have, and allow the rest of the court to believe you are still a ghoul. If he mentions it to me... I'll discuss it with him." She continues to pace. "If you get the slightest hint that someone other than the Nosferatu and Mick know, tell me immediately."

“Easily noted and will be done.”

Mother mutters a curse, and Claude's name shortly after. "What did you notice tonight?" she asks, not glancing in his direction.

“The Brujah Power play started by Al moving in to claim Primogen to free up Candy to be positioned as Prince. Asking for an extension for time to meet to specifically meet up with enough to ensure it would go to a Symbel which would favour Candy drastically. Swaying the whore Tremere bitch with promises of Seneschal-dom and thus increased power for Edward and approaching the Gangrel as well. Watching them all scurry to attain the drops of power that would fall from someone else’s hand rather than being able to rise up and make a claim of their own, and thus not be sycophants. Leaking information to Mick solely to draw him into action against this plot while witnessing the Malkavian sharing a series of words with the Gangrel before he went off and became anti-Brujah and the Malkavian resuming his seat with the others who stayed. Then I spent much time on a wild goose chase as Big Al had the Architect and had been keeping him concealed from detection and observation and deciding to use his demise as the hoop through which he could elevate his pawn. We then went to the scene of the fire which extinguished the Wight Ramos, in time to hear Elizabeth’s cry of anguish and collapse. Andrew went down to speak words of comfort to her while the Malkavian came up and shared what he had discovered with myself and Claude before determining he would walk back. A near comatose Elizabeth rode with myself and Andrew while Claude drove her car back. Mick made his announcements and queries, then spoke in semi-private with Claude while Elizabeth was still there, and the investigation into the circumstances of the Gangrel flipping the table began as I left to follow Andrew back to his haven where we were shortly joined by a highly agitated Tremere bitch who was clearly worried for her hide on the heels of her failed play... Elizabeth called the phone of Ramos’ former ghoul we recovered from the Bell Aliant Tower, and spoke at length with Andrew. Then you called, then arrived... and it was discussion between the pair of you until time to travel again and wind up back here.”

Mother nods as he speaks. "And your opinion of Mick as Prince?"

“In the short term, adequate, in the long term dangerous and potentially too weak in thought and planning. As I would gladly have informed the short sighted, ignorant, foolish Vampires who initially wanted him as Prince and who switched to backing Candy after Big Al’s move, under the current situation he may serve, but once these matters are dealt with and the problems change to less immediate ones, he will not serve at all. It’s like naming a War Hero President or Prime Minister... it seems like a good idea on the heels of conflict, but only in Hollywood are they any damn use as Leaders.”

Mother nods her agreement. "It may be a catalyst for growth and reaching his potential, but I'll be surprised." She continues to move across the room. "And Andrew's plan for his apparent demise?"

“Potentially too hasty, but he is resolved. I have little doubt that my presence is also a factor in the determined drive to see it done now, even if it is not so much a factor as the ongoing betrayal and jockeying for position rampant among the local Tremere.”

"How so?"

“On which point? Too hasty as the present unstable nature of the city permits an established member of a pillar clan more room to manoeuvre and claim concessions and power than a newly emerged member of the city who is unproven. My presence as Andrew has been quite tense and watchful of any interactions between us due to our present closeness...”

At this, Mother stops, turns, and looks at Travis. "Has he? Is this something you have observed, or has he said something to you?"

“Observation, nothing said.”

"What, and when?" She doesn't sound pleased.

“Off and on the last two gatherings, looks, words started but then left unsaid in my proximity. A state of watchfulness... signs of being tense. To that end that’s part of why I followed him later in the evening, give him some time in proximity without your immediate presence to reduce his wariness.”

"And how was that, your... bonding time with Andrew?"

“Not very conversational, and then, as stated, that Anastasia one arrived.”

"Weren't the two of you alone when you went looking for the Architect?"

“Purely business speak, and due to the complete absence of anything useful, frustrating as well.”

Mother nods slowly. "And what do you think will happen once he moves down here?" she asks quietly.

“That will depend on circumstances such as how he takes to the circumstances that bring him here.”

"That could be a factor, yes." She tilts her head. "And what do you hope will happen?"

“That the operation will be successful, he’ll be removed from public eye in such a fashion as the population at large knows Andrew to be dead, while he takes the time here to develop and begin utilizing a new identity.”

"And in relation to you and me?"

“That is slightly more difficult to say, even knowing more details of the nature of the relationship the two of you share.”

"Travis," Mother says, advancing slowly toward him, "you are allowed to want things." She tilts her head. "What do you want?"

“Want... Want is a hollow amorphous blob that conforms to meet empty desires and makes it so expectations are practically never met...”

Mother reaches up and gently cups his face in her hands, touching him for the first time in days. "What do you want to happen with you and me once Andrew is here?" she asks softly, trying to be fairly specific, keeping in mind Travis's occasional conversational tricks.

Travis slightly sets his jaw and closes his eyes as he says “I... don’t... know.”

Carefully, almost like she's trying not to spook him, Mother steps closer, pulls his head down to her shoulder, and wraps her arms around him. "Relax," she whispers.

He doesn’t fight her, but he doesn’t relax either, starting off rather stiff as Mother holds him and the effort of staying that stiff has him slightly tremble from time to time. After a few moments he exhales and his frame starts to relax some.

"You're my childe," Mother whispers as his body relaxes. "My precious little one," she continues, trying to get his mind and heart to do the same. "I'm your sire. You can want things from me, expect things of me. What did I tell you in my note?"

"One note doesn't replace or change multiple lifetimes of experience... No matter how well intended."

"What did it say?" Mother asks again softly.

“It said that your childer, regardless of what they do, are and always will be precious to you.” He says flatly, as if refusing to have any emotional response to the statement.

"It said that *you* were precious to me," she corrects him gently. "Do you trust me, Travis?" Her fingers massage lightly over the back of his neck.

“Trust... we are getting there... so I can say at least more than anyone else right now.”

"Then trust that I wrote the truth." She pulls away just enough that they are eye to eye. "You are precious to me, Travis. I can't meet your needs if you don't tell me what they are." She cups his cheek with one hand. "What do you want to happen between you and me once Andrew is here?"

He sighs, not quite leaning into the touch. “I cannot say... I’m uncertain... all I do know is that I’m not Andrew, and he is not me.”

"Well, no, I would hope not. That would be... rather redundant." She tries to catch his eye and smiles. "Don't get me wrong, I can think of interesting possibilities, but... no. You are not Andrew. And I wouldn't want you to be. I've been enjoying Travis's company."

“I don’t particularly like Andrew, not that it’s a barrier to professional interactions, just a personal feeling. It hasn’t been something getting easier with exposure either, something always seems to nettle me in some form or another.”

She tilts her head, her expression shifting slightly to something more serious. "And you can't identify what it is?"

“In specific... no, not really. In general it’s behavioural actions that speak to the underlying persona, things that won’t be likely to see any change with the submersion of his identity and emerging of a new Id. Tied to the Ego, the emotional self, rather than the intellectual, and thus far harder to alter without completely divorcing from it which can result in reduced faculty for intuition and reaction... or, I could say something general along the lines of...” He clears his throat. “He’s really kind of an asshole when you get down to it.”

Mother blinks, obviously surprised at Travis's answer. "You think so?"

“Well, a sleazy grease ball of an asshole, but an asshole nonetheless. Someone who it’s not about the gift offered freely, or the item in fair trade, but rather what isn’t being said or even discussed is the far more important and influential item. The card sharp playing three card monty in the alley and scalping anyone stupid enough to play his game... but in a position previously where you had to always be mindful of his game. Somewhat similar to the face Claude suddenly has revealed.”

Mother looks at him for a moment, considering. "And you're very careful to point out that you are not Andrew," she says slowly, "but you can't, or won't, specify what you'll need from me once he's here." She tilts her head, just slightly. "Are you afraid of offending me?" Her head tilts to the other side. "No... and obviously you don't think I'm bound to him, or you wouldn't have said, so blatantly, that you don't trust him and don't like him."

“Another factor to impact things in unforeseen ways is the fact my connection to Ahmose will weaken soon, and that will play a part in my thoughts and practices as well... an X factor if you will, on top of the addition of Andrew and the unforeseeable amount of time and interaction that will be the two of you.”

"You have what, another... three weeks? Four?" Mother's hands slide to Travis's shoulders. "Still, any sentient being has wants and needs. You are most definitely sentient," she says with a small smile, "and you are my childe. Once I know what you need, and want, I can adjust Andrew's expectations accordingly."

“I don’t think I know what I want at this juncture. I suppose you could say I wanted Olivia, but we were both really in it as a means to our differing ends and took some pleasure as we worked at opposed purposes... but that wasn’t a want in the typical meaning of want.”

"Do you want Andrew sleeping in the same room as us?" Mother asks after a moment of thought. "Do you want me to touch you more or less than I have in the past week? Do you want me to give you to one of the other Nosferatu to continue your education?"

“I would prefer he didn’t sleep in the same room. I enjoy touching, especially as I tend to be reserved in public. Finally... God no. That would likely be a nightmare and I can’t see anything much of value that could be garnered that way.”

Mother's hands slide up, her thumbs gently stroke his jaw. "See? You do have wants," she says with a hint of good-natured tease in her voice. "Do you want Andrew and I to sleep in separate rooms, or for you and I to sleep separately?"

“I wouldn’t wish to be accused of putting pressure on your relationship, but at the same time I don’t have an area of my own, nor should I be completely alone for some time yet.”

"Then you'll stay with me, and Andrew will have a space of his own," Mother replies matter-of-factly. "And as you are reserved, do you want any physical contact to remain behind closed doors, where only you and I can see, or do you plan to reach out to me in front of him?"

“I don’t plan to at this time... but the future is mutable.”

Mother nods. "Are there any other things you want from me, Travis?"

“I cannot think of anything off-hand, Mother.”

"If you do think of something, tell me." She pulls him forward and kisses his forehead. "You are my childe."

Travis hugs her close and sighs. “I’ll try to do so...”

Mother's cloak wraps around him as she returns his embrace. "You *are* precious to me, Travis," she whispers. "I wouldn't have risked this otherwise."

“I don’t doubt it, but I also believe there is more to it than that.”

"And what is that?" she asks softly.

“I wouldn’t specifically know, I’m not capable of Self-Embracing, however I expect there is more than simple fondness behind the action of the Embrace considering all the variables...”

"What would you consider?"


	5. After the Assault on the Sabbat in Fredericton

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mid-July, against Mother's advice, Andrew decided to leave the Tremere by having his haven burned down. Travis arranged to have Andrew extracted, and Andrew moved into a room in the Warrens.
> 
> Mother and Travis aided with the attack on the Sabbat in Fredericton. As they were running under the cover of Mother's Obfuscate, something managed to see Mother, and drove her in to torpor. A mystery rooftop sniper kept Sabbat off of Mother's body, and Travis came back for her, risking his own existence to pull her to safety.

The taste of kindred blood fresh in her mouth, Mother regains consciousness. "Travis," she murmurs, flexing her left hand restlessly, obviously in pain and seriously wounded.

Having sat patiently, silently, observing everything that has occurred since evacuating Mother and bringing her to safety, Travis looks over. “I’m here Mother.” he says softly, taking her left hand in his.

Mother clutches Travis's hand, and he feels a cold chill wash over him as she tries to Cloak them both. 

Not resisting the Obfuscate, Travis sits patiently. “At the moment it isn’t quite necessary” he says in a soft whisper “however, I can see why you would prefer it.”

She tugs weakly at his hand. "Safe?" she whispers back.

“As safe as possible until we return to the city. I’ve ensured that.”

"Hurt?"

“You are, yes, however I am unscathed despite the ambush involving that Thaumaturge.”

She drops a light kiss on his knuckles. "Good." She stretches her fingers unsteadily toward his shoulder. 

Travis leans in to save her some effort. “You know you should rest and heal as you are able...”

"Want you close," she whispers. 

"I am right here, with no plans to go anywhere as of this moment."

"Precious childe," she murmurs, wrapping her arms around him, fingers carding through his hair. "Okay?"

"I am perfectly alright, aside from seeing how harmed you are."

"Better with you close." 

"Well, I am close, I am right here."

Mother makes a small humming sound. "Was worried."

Travis chuckles softly "I was fine, don't worry about me so much, especially when you're in such rough shape."

"My childe." She shifts back a bit so she can see his face, and strokes his cheek with her thumb. It isn't the smooth, steady touch he's used to from her; it's weak, stuttering. "Worry about you. Keep you safe." Her eyes roll, a combination of pain and checking their environment. "Alone?"

He smiles faintly "We're safe and alone, the war band is off extracting the other team from their delaying action against the expected Hunters."

She nods, and her hand slides down over his chest, stopping over his heart. "How're you feeling?" she asks softly, pain slurring her words.

"Mostly concerned for you at this time, everything else is well in hand and under control. The job is done, and while we'll have to decamp and leave the territory in the hands of nominal opposition forces, they're not the opfor that were in place before the assault."

The edge of her mouth quirks up when he uses the jargon of his mortal life. "Concer... concerned 'bout you, too." She pats his chest lightly. "D'ja kill it?"

"Sadly no, I could only generalize the direction of attack by the Thaumaturge, which meant a clear and clean extraction from the conflict, but prevented retaliation. Those trying to entrap and hold us died, however."

"You're okay," she murmurs again.

"Yes, I absolutely am."

"Afraid?"

“No, the situation at present is well in hand and completely under control. I don’t intend to let that change, so there’s nothing to be afraid of now.”

"Were you?"

“Of course, fear is a strong motivator, if controlled. It allows us to assess the situation, figure out courses of action, and gives us the impetus to follow through. I wasn’t shocked to be ambushed, but the nature of it was a surprise, but once that wore off I was able to extract us both.”

"Afraid of what?"

"Many things, not limited to my demise nor excluding yours."

Her hand slides up to the side of his neck. "I'm sorry."

"Apologize by healing up. That's all that's needed."

Mother nods, and relaxes back, her hand running down to grasp Travis's. "Stay."

Travis leans in and kisses Mother’s forehead “I have no intentions to go anywhere.”

"Glad Andrew didn't come," Mother says quietly. 

“Why is that?”

She threads her fingers through Travis's. "It'd upset 'im."

Travis chuckles slightly “He’s often easily upset it seems.”

"He wouldn't like... got hit."

“Inevitable fate, eventually everyone gets hit.”

Mother's features tighten into a frown. "I don't. Not usually."

“No one is perfect every day, every time. Take what happened and be even stronger instead of obsessing about what went wrong.”

"You could... could have been hurt."

“A risk I’ve accepted almost every day or night I’ve woken up since I became an adult. However, I wasn’t, and I was able to extract you.”

"I should be," Mother sighs, shaking her head slightly, "protecting you."

“You have, and will continue to, done so when it comes to many things. This time, however, I was able to save you and keep myself out of needing much protecting.”

She gives him a pained half-smile. "And now my... pride's wounded as well." Mother pats his hand. "My precious Travis."

Travis smiles slightly, squeezing her hand lightly. “Well, that’s one injury I know you’ll heal swiftly, you’re far better than that.”

"Been through... been through worse," she agrees. 

He nods “Then you’ll get through this too, and it won’t be a trial compared to those times.”

Mother shakes her head slowly. "Not a trial... not with you."

“There you have it. Now just get through this and better.”

She hums softly in agreement.

“Now, however, comes the question of ‘What might I do for you at this juncture.’”

"Is that what you want me to say?" she asks slowly after a moment.

“I believe I said it, not yourself.”

She shakes her head. "I'm not..." she sighs, "not thinking well." She turns her head, looking around, trying to get a better idea of where they are.

“And here I thought that wasn’t probable... you must have been hit harder than I thought.”

"Any harder, 'd be dead," she says quietly, and her hand clenches around his. "Someone... someone fed me."

“Yes, by someone who could wake you... which drastically reduces your guess options.”

"Hate torpor." She shivers. "Time is it?"

“It’s a little after 2 at this point, based on my last looking at a clock and our talking.”

"Three hours t'dawn. Hour to Saint John. Don't want t'be here." She tries to pull herself upright. "Need t'get you back. Safe."

“Plenty of time for a safe, and legal drive. If you’re up to it.”

Mother looks around again, frowning. "Grace back yet?"

“Everyone’s been back, except that last extraction of the assault team laggards that engaged the Hunters in a preliminary fashion. A foolish preliminary fashion.”

"Need to..." she leans heavily against Travis. "Need to introduce you."

Travis helps her up and supports her, working to be unobtrusive about it. “Of course, as you will and wish, just don’t strain yourself.”

Her ribs give under his hand, there's a creaking sound coming from one of her legs like bones are rubbing together, and the curve of her spine isn't... quite... right. "Your great-grand-sire. Should meet her." Despite Mother's words, it's clear she's a hard slap away from being in torpor again.

“Only if you are absolutely up for it, we can just as easily go visit her in Halifax in a week or two when you’re in better shape.”

Mother looks at him for a long moment, arms braced on his chest and shoulder. "You're... concerned," she says slowly.

“Of course I am concerned.” He pauses, taking a moment before adding, “It would be difficult to adjust and get established as a Vampire if something were to happen to you.”

She makes the mistake of shaking her head, and the world spins hard around her. She takes a faltering half-step toward him, and her head drops to his shoulder. "Walls. So many walls."

He holds her steady, then pauses to hold her as she half-steps into him. “It’s not much further, but it was the easiest way to ensure knowing if we’re being followed.”

"You." She sags against him, one leg clearly useless. "Adjust to anything."

“Only due to years of experience and training, and the right people around me.” He half lifts, supporting her so she doesn’t have to use that useless leg.

"Don't want to?"

“Don’t want to, what?”

"Adjust." Her arm goes slack around him. "Down. Leg's not straight."

He complies, moving to let her work things out. “It wouldn’t be a desired course of action by any stretch.”

"Why?" She adjusts her leg, grimacing.

"Well, the obvious of the social difficulties for one, not to mention the details and nuances I'm not aware of..."

"Could find a mentor." With a small whimper, she pushes hard against her knee, and there's a wet crunching sound.

"Perhaps, but that would require travel."

"No one in the city?"

"Well, the most promising candidates have either recently sold out secrets from those who trust them to others better off not knowing, or proven incompetent and treacherous in the extreme. Not good referrals to potential mentors. The rest are rather a waste."

Mother nods, her mouth a thin, tense line, and she frowns in concentration. "Ahmose?" she asks, exhaling sharply as she flexes her knee.

“Ahmose is intelligent, and does know a fair amount, however he’s always operated well outside of the system... as it were... and as well educated and experienced as he is, he falls short there.”

"You... admitting he has a f-fault?" she asks through clenched teeth as she manipulates the joint again.

"Everyone has faults, his is that he's an outsider."

"Being concerned... Christ," she hisses, and there's a subtle 'pop' sound from her knee. She sighs, body relaxing for a moment as one source of pain is taken care of. "Being concerned for someone else," she says softly, shaking her head, "isn't a fault."

“Did I say being concerned for others is a fault?”

Mother shakes her head, hands reaching for Travis's. "Walls. So many walls," she mutters. She guides Travis's hands to her knee. "Pull, hard. The bone's not right."

“Now I know you didn’t think it would be easy.” He cups and holds the knee, nodding at her direction and pulls hard down.

The brief hint of a smile at Travis's words vanishes abruptly as Mother bites back a howl of pain. Bracing her other foot on his leg, she holds him in place as she runs her knuckles roughly down over the top of her thigh. Apparently satisfied, she's motionless for a moment, and then sags back onto her elbows. 

Travis waits a few moments after Mother sags back and ‘relaxes’ before speaking “So, shall it be home again, or to see Her Grace?”

Mother sits up slowly. "Family, then home. Should be able to walk now."

 

A few hours pass, and Travis and Mother return to Saint John.

 

Having dropped the vehicle in an unobtrusive place that won’t lead anyone back to their actual destination, Travis gets them back home in relative ease.

Mother's first instinct is to check on Andrew. She shuffles to his room, obviously still in pain. "Andrew?" She pauses at the threshold of his room, then enters, even though there was no reply.

Travis simply waits, staying outside of the rooms.

Mother exits Andrew's room with a frown. "Andrew?" she calls out, and then enters the room she shares with Travis.

Travis follows her, quietly as he looks around carefully.

Mother's attention is drawn to the folded up note on her bed. She reads it, then grabs the lamp next to her bed, and whips it at the wall with a pained shout of "Dammit!"

Travis watches, curious but not to the point of self sacrifice. Instead he walks over and puts a light hand on Mother's shoulder and asks "What is it?"

Mother is silent for a long moment. "Andrew. " Her hand clenches around the slip of paper. 

"The expected who, but no why or how..."

She shakes her head. "Nothing you need to worry about," she replies tensely. Her eyes shift to the mess of broken glass, and she sighs through her nose. "Watch where you step," she says, moving painfully to begin picking up the pieces.

“I believe the operative term would be... Too Late.” Travis moves fluidly to help in the clean up, trying to ensure Mother doesn’t have to strain too much considering her state of injury.

"You don't need to clean this up." Her voice is quiet, terse.

“Need doesn’t begin to enter the equation of my cleaning this up.”

Mother sighs, rubbing her forehead with the back of one hand, elbows on her knees. After a second, she gathers herself and resumes picking up shards of glass. "I'll need to heal again tonight. Probably tomorrow night as well, so I don't risk... harming you."

Travis continued cleaning up, getting what he could as she took a rest. “Will you need anything I can help with?”

"Blood." She stands, and empties her hands into a nearby bin, her back to Travis. "I may... I may need you to bring a human down. I know someone who's willing to be fed upon." 

“It can and will be arranged then.” He goes over to empty the mess he’s cleaned up.

"He's gone to Fredericton," Mother says softly.

“He’ll be fine, as much as I might dislike him and think he’s an ass, he’s not stupid nor likely to put himself at needless risk.”

"I agree," she replies, almost under her breath.

“Is there anything else that should be attended to before the sun rises?”

Mother shakes her head, still with her back to Travis. "No. Just healing."

“Then rest up and start truly healing, I’ll meditate before slumber.” Travis walks over and places a hand on Mother’s shoulder lightly before slipping his arms around her from behind and hugging her. “All will be well, it just takes time. However, tell anyone I said that and I’ll deny it categorically.”

She chuckles, resting her hands over his. "Stay," she whispers, threading her fingers through his. 

He lightly caresses the fingers as they thread through his. “Only if you’re certain, but then, certainly.”

"I wouldn't say it if I weren't certain."

“I figured, but thought I should ask...”

She squeezes his hand. "Go meditate. I need to bathe. I smell like Fredericton."

“Alright, clean well then and be careful.” He squeezes her hand back before letting go and stepping back, moving over to his place to meditate.

Almost an hour later, Mother returns to her room, dressed in a long tunic, hair down and damp. Most of her ghostly white skin seems to be covered in harsh purple bruising.

Shortly after her return, Travis comes out of meditation. "Feeling better?"

She shrugs one shoulder. "Feeling cleaner."

"That can be better."

"True enough," she agrees with a poorly disguised sigh. "Better than I was, not as well as I'd like to be." She pushes the heavy bedroom door closed, and locks it as she always does. "How was your meditation?" she asks politely, though she sounds distracted.

"It went well enough, everyone is alive after all."

"As far as we know," is her quiet reply.

"If you wish to believe an impulsive choice made by an asshole suddenly invalidates his prior proof of self preservation instinct and intelligence, far be it for me to dissuade you from questioning his value of existence."

"I'm not in the mood for debate, Travis," Mother replies quietly, "and the sun's coming up." She pulls the blankets back and climbs into bed.

“Very well then.” Travis moves to carefully join Mother.

Once he's in bed, she curls up on her side, arms around her ribs, and presses her forehead against his shoulder.

Travis lightly brushes back hair as he rests there with her before placing an arm lightly on her shoulder.

"I love him, but I could kick his ass right now," she whispers in the darkness.

“Well, regardless of the contrasting feelings, you’ll get your chance to express them eventually.”

There's a long moment of silence. Just before dawn, Mother whispers, "Thank you," and reaches down to link her hand with Travis's.

Travis doesn’t reply with words, but links his hand with hers and lightly rubs it.


	6. August 8, 2014

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a private conversation with Mother and Travis, Artemis, a Brujah Elder, asked Mother 'what the deal was' between her and Travis. After hearing how Travis pulled her to safety in Fredericton, Artemis said 'this is more than a sire and childe.'

Mother sends a text as soon as they're in the Tunnels. She's silent as they travel through the labyrinth, though she occasionally gives Travis a thoughtful look. It isn't until they're in her room that she speaks. "What did you think of our conversation with Artemis?"

“While slightly surprised by his perceptiveness, it was offset by the adroitness and lack of discretion or detailed thought to his follow up. He also seemed put off easily enough by simply discussing one aspect of the dynamic, one that doesn’t truly explain the whole. Your own thoughts?”

Mother nods slowly. "He and I rarely see one another - a quick conversation every decade or so... so I suppose any change would seem more dramatic, as opposed to a gradual shift in... priorities." She looks at Travis, but her guard seems up. "What do you think he should have asked?"

“It was more the fact he thrust quickly but didn’t follow up by questioning how that stated situation might not lend itself to such a quick assumption of support and protection...”

"It's not exactly the sort of situation that would lend itself to loyalty, or risk-taking." She gives Travis a long look. "So, what is it, then?" she asks quietly.

“What is what?”

"What is creating this... support and protection?"

“Perhaps Stockholm Syndrome.” He does let a small smile, more of a smirk, crack his face as he says it this time however.

"Any kindness I show is better than me leaving you chained up and alone?"

“Typically speaking that is the nature of people and standard sociology, but not necessarily the explanation.”

"Then what is?"

“Perhaps I always viewed you in a wary, but positive light, and since while I was fully bound I was not given any discussions otherwise I never formed a negative bias. So, despite the hardship of the embrace and changes since then, I’ve been able to perhaps appreciate the value of having you near and in my existence.”

The corner of Mother's mouth twitches up. "Perhaps."

“Perhaps” Travis smiles momentarily.

Slightly more relaxed, she takes a seat on the sofa, and pats the space beside her. "And how are you finding it, being unbound? You'd expressed some concern about it when we discussed it in... June."

He moves and sits beside her on the sofa “It’s... different... takes some adjustment but nothing severely negative. Just... different.”

"If you do experience anything... negative... effects, come to me, and we'll see what we can do to mitigate it."

“I will bear that in mind, even more than I already had been.”

“I have no doubt that should he remain locally, Ahmose will take some retribution. Less now that Ramos is destroyed, but still potentially some.”

"And what sort of retribution would that be?"

“Some manipulation, perhaps manufacturing a situation where the best expected outcome is still a loss of some form, or undermining a planned goal. Nothing overtly destructive or disruptive, but cunning and arranged to leave his hands clean.”

"Would he cause you harm?"

“Direct, no. Physical, no. Social, perhaps but less likely, since if you’re using or playing someone it’s best they have power you can exploit. Mental, Most likely, but again, not direct.”

Mother frowns. "Why would he strike out at you?"

“He likely won’t at all, but that doesn’t mean I won’t be affected by potential collateral ‘damage’ situations. You asked if I’d cause me harm, and as I said, not directly.”

"True." Mother's fingertips trace over his knuckles. "What will you do if he moves against me?" she asks quietly, eyes ahead, not looking at Travis.

“That’s entirely situational... I can’t swear I’d act to prevent a situation I know nothing about after all.” Travis sighs slightly.

"And if you did know... if you recognized his style, or his methods..."

"Exact responses would be determined by circumstances and situations. I would seek to inform you of the machinations at the very least."

"Would you help him?" She turns her head to observe him carefully.

"That might depend on target and circumstances, as to if they might serve to further other ends or humble someone in need of it, such as Edward or Al."

"Would you help him against me?"

"Would it be a good course of action to cut a limb off for no good reasoning?"

"No word games, Travis," Mother replies quietly. 

"I felt the No was pretty self explanatory in that, or at least 'not in my right mind'"

"Well, we did just divide Andrew in half," she replies with the ghost of a smile.

"Yes, but it wasn't really his idea whatsoever."

"Not that part, no." Mother laces her fingers through Travis's. "Other thoughts on tonight?"

“It was a long, and not very productive night, discounting the story and goose chasing.”

Mother nods slowly. "Was I convincing as Andrew's stunned and grieving widow?"

“Fairly, although I do have some concerns it was a little too much... but we’ll have to see how things progress.”

"We've been together over 50 years," she says, and there's a touch of sadness in her voice. "Five decades of watching over him, trying to make sure the Tremere didn't sink their hooks in too deep, with Edward scowling at us..."

“And you’ll be together at least 50 more, but with easier circumstances, even if more clandestine in public.”

Mother doesn't seem aware of it when she sighs "Maybe." She takes a deep breath. "We'll see how he is when he returns. And how angry I am at him."

“Maybe my time frame includes after moving on from that.”

Mother hums in response. "I'm not sure he'll receive the message, but I warned him about the Summoning."

“Solid advice, I wouldn’t be shocked if they sought to summon him discreetly next gather at least as well.”

"At least that threat will be gone soon... if he can stay away long enough."

“It would be well advised, otherwise it undermines the overall goal...”

Mother nods slowly. "All the more reason he shouldn't have left."

“Had he not left, he would have most likely responded to Mick’s Summons... silver lining to that particular cloud.”

Leaning against Travis's shoulder, Mother says "Perhaps. Or he could have been physically restrained before we left for Court." She tilts her head back a bit to look at Travis. "It's difficult, separating the knowledge that he should be able to take care of himself from the worry that he hasn't."

Travis holds Mother lightly “I wouldn’t really know how difficult that is, but I am certain it will be just fine.”

She pats his knee. "Someday, Travis, you'll care for someone."

Travis smiles wistfully “Perhaps, but it is also dangerous to care for someone too much... for them and myself.”

"As time goes on, Travis, caring for others will become the only thing that keeps you from following Ramos's dark path. Holding on to positive human emotions is the only defense we have against the Beast within us all."

“And if I do hold onto them, but also keep the negative from being nearly so strong by avoiding such betrayals over the ages?”

"That's sounds like a long, lonely life." Mother shakes her head.

“Perhaps, perhaps not... while the beast is far more persistent and demonstrative than normal human nature alone, nothing says that one can’t be lonely in the long term but still happy.”

"I know languages change over time, but I've never heard a definition of lonely that included happy, or vice versa."

Mother looks down at her hand where it rests on Travis's knee. "Stay with me today?" she asks quietly.


	7. August 25, 2014

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After over a month of silence, Andrew gets in touch with Mother. Travis loses his temper.

Mother's phone buzzes with an incoming text:

Mother,  
Andrew.

 

She frowns at the message, and responds:  
Andrew,  
Where are you? Are you injured? Do you need help?  
\- Mother

 

I am well. I have missed you greatly. I eagerly look forward to our reunion. I am just outside the sewers. I appear different than you might remember.   
Andrew Stanum

 

My beloved,  
Tell me where and when to meet you.  
\- Mother

 

I am outside the gate leading to the lower sewers uptown.   
Andrew Stanum.

 

Mother brings Travis with her to the gate in Andrew's email. She keeps herself and Travis hidden with Obfuscate, just in case.

At the gates is a woman wearing a mask. In her hands is a ring and Andrew's cane.

Travis is quiet and observant, adding a layer of his own Obfuscate for himself over Mother’s for the inevitable ‘situation’ to come.

Mother moves back around a corner where she can't be seen, then shifts her appearance to all black - clothing, hair skin, eyes and teeth - and then steps back to where she can see the entrance. "Are you lost?" she asks quietly.

"No Mother. I hope, I am found. I have changed, for you." The woman takes off her mask to reveal a feminine featured Andrew.

Only Travis is close enough to hear Mother's strangled gasp of "Oh, god," before she lunges forward to unlock and open the gate.

Travis remains silent and mostly unseen as he studies the scene before him, getting ready for any outbursts to come.

When the gate open Andrew rushes forward and embraces Mother. "I've missed you so much." Andrew kisses her.

For a few seconds after their lips meet, Mother doesn't move, but then a dam seems to break and Mother reciprocates, bringing her hands up to cup Andrew's face. "You bastard," she whispers, pressing their foreheads together. She sighs through her nose, and pushes him away. "Let's get you downstairs." She turns away from Andrew to lock the gate.

Travis simply, under the cloak of obfuscate, shakes his head as he watches silently.

Andrew silently follows Mother into the lower levels. When they arrive at Mother's study Andrew waits for Mother to sit, pulling her chair out for her. "I suppose you've noticed I've made a few changes."

"Just a few." Mother sits, crossing her arms over her chest. "Where were you?" 

"Somewhere in rural Quebec I believe. Someplace off the beaten path. A place hard to get out of if... summoned. I suppose you will want to know how I changed my gender? I called in a boon. It cost more than I thought. Thankfully I owe nothing. The balance is clear. Mother, I can no longer see the future."

It takes Mother a moment to respond. "And how do you feel about that?" she asks quietly; her tone is less than warm. 

"At first terrible but... It is a worthy sacrifice if it allows me to follow my fate. If it brings me one step closer to being able to have a child with you."

Mother stiffens slightly when Andrew mentions having a child with her, and nods slowly as he continues. "It may help your progress, not being distracted by portents and prophesies. It will allow you to focus on your personal growth."

"You don't want a child?"

Travis appears, one hand clenched in a tight fist, the other pointing at Andrew. "Seriously? Seriously? You disappear for almost a whole month, under circumstances that left SOME people concerned for your survival, under circumstances where SOMEONE came a hair's breadth from dying and the first topic of conversation is having a monster child by some unholy trick you don't even know yet? There are worlds of more important topics to discuss."

Mother looks up at Travis, obviously surprised, but says nothing.

Andrew turns and stares at Travis. "And what would you have me discuss? You think I don't know about what happened in Fredericton? I was there. Who do you think fired the gun that distracted the Sabbat from Mother's fallen body|? I watched you take her to safety. Do you think I would ever leave Mother in danger? think again!" 

Andrew rises to his feet. "I left for a month because every Nosferatu in the Warren knew I was still living. Including Claude who can't keep a damn secret. What do you think would happen to Mother's reputation if the Tremere discovered she was involved? I left not only for my own selfish reasons but for her own protection! And why shouldn't I bring up my desire to have children. It was relevant to why I left. Yet, with every word I feel Mother stiffen and pull away. Why not get all of the ugly truth right on out in the open. And that little monster, you are referring to would be our child." 

Andrew turns and looks at Mother. His face softens and voice lowers. "I am sorry for hurting you." Andrew sits next to mother. Looks at her deeply then returns his gaze to Travis. "What else would you have me say?" Andrew again turns to Mother. "What else would you have me say? Ask and I will answer."

Travis stands his ground. "Of course you were there, I'm irritated not ignorant, despite potential inference. Now you dicker and bicker at me when it was Mother who shared that information. Here you clearly decide to conveniently change your belief structure, deciding to become Mother and to keep with your vaunted beliefs you would force Mother to reinvent a whole persona because of your selfish ignorance. 

"You are worse than a child, you felt the potential existed to move yourself and rather than wait for more stability to the situation, disregarding the advice of Mother to reconsider. The first words reveal everything about your desires and thoughts, and all you want is a demon monster child, an aberration, a terrible mistake, and a harbinger of the end times in more religions than I care to name, including that of vampires.

"Are you seriously that dense? That ignorant? Was I mistaken in the belief that while you were a complete asshole among other things, that you were still competent?"

Andrew's face darkens, and he takes a moment to breathe. "My beliefs have not changed, Travis. How can I even explain to you what I believe? I expect Mother to remain Mother. I could never replace her. I could never be the Mother she is, despite my new gender. Her Nosferatu are her Nosferatu. She is the Mother of this Warren. She is the Mother of all Nosferatu of Canada. She is the Mother of many who are not of her clan. She is caring and generous. She is fierce and terrible. I would expect no less from her. I love her for it.

"I am not, however her child. I am her lover. 

"I thought she knew my desires. Sometimes, as you have already pointed out Travis, i am ignorant and arrogant and assume Mother knows." 

Andrew again turns to Mother. "I assumed you knew. I assumed because you know me better than I know myself. I am sorry if I did not see you. I am sorry if I did not share enough with you. I value your advise. I value everything about you. I hope I offer you as much in turn. I hope your desire for me is not based solely on my appearance, or gender. As for children?"

Andrew turns so he addresses both Travis and Mother. "I know that it is supposed to be a sign of Gehenna. There have, however, been vampires that have become pregnant. Their children are called Damphyr. Their children are much like revenants in ability and life span. I have looked into this. I am aware there is more to learn. 

"I hope, that the gift to have children will come if... when I achieve inner peace. Obviously, I still have a long ways to go.... and for more reasons than becoming angry with you, Travis. I am not incompetent Travis. I am hopeful."

Travis shakes his head.

“Clearly... Clearly... Very well, perhaps this will be enough then.” He looks pointedly back at Andrew. “Understand these things. Andrea. And Understand them clearly, I doubt we’ll ever be in a position where repeating them will be a pleasant experience, let alone a discussion. First, and most importantly to me, you compromised the entire operation. Not just your extraction and rehabilitation, not just Mother’s operation for force Claude’s hand, but also the operation to Fredericton and the operation within the city since your apparent demise. While there is some small token of light in your appearance when you did lend aide, the fact remains you deliberately and intentionally added a factor of chaos which couldn’t be controlled. Who is to say that the attacker from beyond wasn’t there because it followed you as you sought to watch over Mother but remain outside the operation. Considering the secrecy and care we took in our movements, it’s easy to connect your presence to something finding and attacking us in that manner.” 

He pauses, holding up a hand to say he won’t even bother listening at this point. His words continue and he’s resumed his usual even tone.

“Secondly, the concept of Family and Trust that I’ve been listening to Mother try to show me has been irrevocably damaged by your actions. Yes, Claude shared something he should not have, and if I had my way he’d be drained of every last drop of his vitae while skinned alive to remind him of the lesson of Operational Security and Trust between Operatives, however with the movement of you and your change of status it allowed her the chance to put Claude under direct scrutiny, and with a heavy punishment that should reach deeper to his thought process than what he might anticipate otherwise. Your actions show me that someone Mother clearly cares for, someone that Mother Trusted, would willingly and ably hurt Mother. Someone who supposedly loves and cares for Mother in return would put their selfish needs above anything else in a time of great risk and upheaval.”

He shakes his head again.

“I thought you at least marginally better than that. I also expected you to understand, by this point in your relationship, that within the Nosferatu very little is kept completely in secret, especially without special request. Others beg and pay for tidbits, while the strength of the Clan is in those stories and secrets known in full and not shared at all. “

“One final warning, and one you should understand considering how hunted and harried you already seemed to be. If you pursue that damned course, even if I should utter not a word, nor raise a hand, direct or indirect, it will be the demise of you and Mother. Should you outlive Mother even one minute because of that, I will guarantee you the most excruciating suffering unending you could ever fathom.”

"Travis," Mother says quietly as she holds out a hand to him, palm up, and then lowers it to pat the seat beside her. Trusting Travis to obey, she turns her attention to Andrew.

"I scarcely know where to begin," she says, shaking her head slowly. "I have extracted strangers from cities - countries - where they were being hunted. I have pulled people from their clans. I have extracted a dear friend from the Sabbat, where he was bound to a host of others," she continues with a small wave of her hand. "None were as difficult as you, and you," she clenches her fist over her heart, "are bound to me, and call yourself my lover." Her hand drops to her lap. "So I have to ask, Andrew, why? Why would you leave on the eve of our movement into Fredericton, and without discussing it with me first? Why would you abandon my plan for you and your continued safety? Did you not trust me to act in your best interest?"

"I trust you implicitly Mother." Andrew sighs. "I do not, however trust all of the other Nosferatu. I was not trying to be cruel. I am sorry I caused you so much pain. The truth is, I could not stand the thought of being left behind while you put yourself at risk scouting the Sabbat stronghold. Whether you bid me to or not I was going to follow you. I left enough clues behind that to the other Nosferatu my demise while in Fredericton would seem a real possibility. I had hoped to speak to you at the Fredericton Chantry but the ghost attacked before you reached it. Knowing I would need some distance I took the opportunity to move towards some of my own goals. Distance and circumstance prevented me from contacting you until now."

"I can understand the desire to watch over someone you care for when they are entering a potentially dangerous situation." She locks her unnerving gaze on Andrew. "I feel it every time Travis is out of my sight." She pauses. "Or every time you left me to return to the chantry." 

"And I can understand not trusting Claude after he told Mick about Travis. But what do you think will happen now that you have... made this alteration to yourself?"

Travis had gone to sit beside Mother, as Mother had bidden him to, reclining somewhat comfortably even if he didn’t let it show in the face he showed to everyone else. Having said his piece, so far, he continued to remain silent, watching and listening.

"You disapprove," Andrew says.

"I don't know yet. You haven't told me your plan," Mother replies quietly.

"Hmmm. I want to better understand the dual nature of the universe. I've experienced the male aspect most of my life. I thought being a woman might give greater understanding. I had hoped to spend some time with you after being away so long. Being a woman should also throw off any who are attempting to find me. Other than my plan to continue researching the nature of Wicca and transcendence I thought keeping an eye on the Tremere might be a good idea. Its a bit convoluted. Would you like to hear about it?" Andrew goes on to explain how he had a letter forged, sent to the Tremere Chantry but appearing to be from one of the Giovanni, how he was attempting to have the Tremere Chantry bugged, sending out invitations to all kindred in the city for a social gathering at the Chantry, and creating a false history for his female identity.

"You plan to have everyone attend a gathering at the Chantry, and set the Tremere and Giovanni against each other?" A smile flickers across Mother's face for the first time since this meeting began. "And what of Marion? Aside from being a... whore... who will she be?"

"That is where I need some help. I had thought to make her a shovel head that had escaped but that might cause complications. Any ideas?"

"Not yet, but I've only just met her." Mother tilts her head. "But if anything ill befalls the Tremere, anything, if their mail is delayed, who do you think they will blame?"

"I hope Lorne of the Giovanni or the Malkavians. I don't intend to be so crass as to do anything to the Tremere. I do however want to keep tabs on them. Hopefully the Malkavians will provide me with that opportunity."

Mother shakes her head slowly. "The Tremere will blame me for any misfortune they experience. If Edward gets a hangnail, he'll blame me, and Anastasia will take it directly to Mick's ear. Anything unusual that happens as soon as "Marion" arrives in the city is going to attract attention to you. And drawing the attention of The Lady In Red, and the most curious Malkavian I've ever met is not something you want to do. Avoid The Lady In Red at all costs." She frowns.   
"And if someone arrived in the city claiming to be an ex-Sabbat member, so soon after the attack on Fredericton, so soon after I was driven into torpor," she turns her head to look at Travis, "what would you do?"

“Hmm? Before or after the obligatory questioning and potential torture of the new shovel-head who somehow managed to get away from a Camarilla Strike Force and well-equipped and prepared hunters by the score? If before, well, I might be required to react with some anger and assault the new-comer, after all Mick knows you’re my Sire and not just a new Regnant and I did just pull you out from an ambush and see to your safety. If after, the questioning would likely be turned over to Claude, which would result in either completely burning that resource as he’s forced to pick utterly between supporting the Prince or protecting a secret identity he has no investment in. If not him, then I’d also have volunteered to personally torture and question the Sabbat in a moderately public place and manner. Meaning not right there and then, but somewhere near and shortly, so others can choose to witness and question, or remain aloof and away. That’s also discounting the Scourge, Artemis, who also has a propensity for using the discipline of Love, at which point you’d spill every last thing you knew if asked. Oh, and let us not forget, because of the firebombings, you’d be asked if you were involved in your own fate and that’s a hand grenade question for someone under duress, Love, or being discreetly Telepathy-d to detect your thoughts while you respond.”

Mother turns again to Andrew. "So, not a former member of the Sabbat, then."

"Not my best idea," Andrew agrees. "What do you suggest?"

"I'm tempted to ask Artemis to hide you as a Brujah, but it is far too soon for that." She sighs. "We could continue with the original plan, put you in a physical mask and claim you are a child of mine from years ago." She looks at Travis. "Your opinion?"

“Let us begin by re-visiting the moving parts we already have in play so we can remain mindful of them. The other Nosferatu know Andrew is alive, not the particulars of his present existence, just that he survives and is known. That means 4 other bodies that are simply aware you still exist in any form, but without particulars. Thus, keeping Andrew close is advantageous to avoid more informed and aware Vampires involved in the situation.

"Mick has been made aware of his pawn Tremere, the Bitch, of an ability that allows the potential discovery of the presence and passage of someone using either their full birth name, or a personal item. Mick is also rather fervent in seeing this avenue used, as he pressed Mother on the subject multiple times last gather. To my knowledge, this particular art, has a limitation revolving around a statute of limitations... meaning beyond a certain window of time, alive or dead, it can’t track the person targeted and draws null response. I anticipate Mick will request, or force, such an action in the coming nights so Andrew’s presence in the sewers at this time is a detriment. I additionally anticipate Edward will make a move on a similar approach following Mick’s confronting him and the ongoing situation. Advantage is had by no recent intimate interactions between you two which might be read using Spirit’s Touch, so it’s a problem of timing in the case of that particular Ritual being used.

"Artemis has already revealed a touch of faculty in seeing more than others pick up, so a publicly close relationship between you two would draw his attention. He’s not deeply perceptive, at least not in what he’s shared thus far, but more perceptive than many would anticipate and expect. Adding in his capability and willingness to utilize the Elder power of Love, he is a threat that should be minimized at all cost. I, personally, don’t know as much about Artemis and his beliefs, desires, intentions and processes to fully weigh him as a potential ally in a deeper operation at this time. For all I know he could be as prone as Claude to sharing things not meant to be shared, with less of a handle on him to keep him under control or in check.

"I am certain you both can add variables already in play to this list, beyond actions taken by Andrew since his disappearance.”

"A childe of mine would have reason to be near me, given my recent... loss. A physical mask would hide that he has a female face, rather than the deformities of a Nosferatu... But not touching anything that a suspicious mind can read will be daunting, to say the least." She looks at Andrew. "How long can they try to trace you with your name or picture?"

"If it is the same ritual I attempted to use with the Architect then that could be a problem. The rite works as long as it is cast somewhere I've last been since sunrise. We may have to bribe Mick. I'm pretty sure he wants to learn thaumaturgy. "

Mother glances at Travis. "Possibly. I'm not sure Anastasia would go so far as to teach him that." She tilts her head, looking at Andrew. "Are you sure you're willing to go that far?"

"Lets not cross that bridge until we have to. Teaching Mick blood sorcery might call the attention of the Pyramid. We should, however remain mindful that it is a commodity the Prince craves. So, how has Mick gained the friendship of Anastasia? I did not think he and the Tremere were on speaking terms. "

"In your absence, Edward needed a new tool to get close to the prince. And it doesn't hurt that Anastasia seems keen to scramble for any scrap of power she can." She pauses. "Summoning is going to become an issue again, the moment you interact with Mick, or anyone else with Presence."

"It didn't hurt that she saw a conflict coming between Edward and the Prince and chose the side the Pyramid would prefer was taken," Travis says.

"You could," Mother begins slowly, "allow yourself to be discovered, and claim that Edward put you up to it, in a bid both to discredit me and to prove your loyalty to the Tremere... But that would require not only lying to the Prince, but possibly lying about Edward to his face, and I'm not sure you could manage that."

"A possibility but one we should leave for if I am discovered. I'd rather continue to play out being dead first. With any gamble there is always a risk. We knew this before we started on the venture. Lets see where it goes."

"If the gathering is in Mick's bar, as he prefers, he might tell the Tremere that casting the ritual there is pointless, since you obviously hadn't been there in the past 24 hours. The same is potentially true at the chantry. Can we manipulate them into giving up? Dr Rook should have the ash from your ring ready for testing via Spirit's Touch," Mother says.


	8. August 25, 2014 - After Andrew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrew is not permitted to remain in the Warrens due to security concerns.

Mother leads Travis back to her room, and closes the door behind him with one hand while grasping his bicep with the other. She tugs gently to get him to turn toward her, and takes a step toward him. Her hands move up to cup his face in her hands, fingertips just brushing the hair behind his ears. "Travis," she whispers.

Moving towards her by the direction of the tug, Travis lightly wets his lips as he finds himself so very close to Mother. "Yes, Mother?" He whispers back softly.

She leans in, and presses her lips to his.

Briefly surprised, it only takes a moment before Travis responds, pressing his lips back against hers as one hand moves to hold and caress the small of her back.

Her fingernails scratch lightly into his hair as she tilts her head. She tastes his lower lip with the tip of her tongue.

He shivers slightly, pulling her closer against his body as his lips part slightly at the feel of her tongue. His own briefly slipping out to caress hers.

Either the shiver or the brush of his tongue against her own makes her inhale sharply, and she jerks out of his grasp, one hand flying up to cover her mouth, eyes wide with alarm. "Oh god!" she gasps. "Travis, I - I'm sorry, I didn't mean to... take advantage."

He sighs as she pulls away and looks shocked. "If it was taking advantage, I believe I would put up more of a fight."

She stares at him for a second before responding with "Stockholm Syndrome?"

He can't help but chuckle as he says in sardonic tones "Oh yes, absolutely."

Carefully staying just out of arm's reach, Mother circles around him to cross the room, turning on the security. "You expressed emotion, when you came out of obfuscate," she says, her back to him. "That was... good. You should feel free to do that down here."

Travis watches Mother move about, then sits on the edge of the bed. "Some should be lucky it was only emotions."

Mother is motionless, almost tense, while Travis speaks. "I'm not sure he fully understood what he was witnessing," she replies quietly, and then turns to face him.

"Which would be?"

She looks him in the eye. "You tell me."

“Part of why I asked you first is because there’s more than a few things that wait to be seen to know how serious to take things.”

"Like?" She takes a slow step toward him.

“Such as your intentions with Andrew going forward, less over concern for his feelings, more to understand what to expect.”

She shakes her head slowly. "I'm not sure yet what my... intentions... are toward him. I want to keep him safe," she offers. She tilts her head slightly. "Your emotions, when you came out of obfuscate... what were you expressing, other than anger at Andrew's behaviour?"


	9. September 7, 2014 - After Leaving Mick's Bar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mortal with GoogleGlass shows up at Mick's bar; by dawn, the human is in jail, and Travis, Marion, and the Malkavian Aloysious have located one ally of the mortal's, and detonated the trap in her apartment.
> 
> Mick asked for a census of all of the kindred in the city. Tension built steadily between Mother, Marion, and Travis; Marion decides to leave, and her last words to Mother, said in private, are: "You never needed the blood bond to make me love you."
> 
> Travis displayed an unexpected insight; when Mother asked "what are you?", he said he had often seen that question in Ahmose's eyes, but the Setite had never asked.
> 
> Mother and Travis talk as they walk home.

"You said you realized something?" Mother asks, though she seems subdued.

“For jogging of the memory as much happened that’s being processed... at which juncture?” Travis looks at Mother, watching her.

"End of the night," she replies after a moment of hesitation. "After you left us alone to talk."

“Mostly that someone had to keep an eye on how things were proceeding... and it turns out it may have been a good thing. Artemis and Aloysious sought to place more standing upon my name and Rook was contrary... and as the discussion continued apace the Malkavian Primogen said ‘Oh Travis, is that not out yet?’ at the end of the discussion, after all, he was present when Claude said his piece that time.”

Mother sighs. After a few minutes, she says, "I'm putting you on the list as embraced but unreleased."

“As you wish, Mother.”

"I don't trust Mick. Just because Claude and I know he knows doesn't mean he won't lie about it. And the reason I wanted it secret has expired."

“He’s not the sole person outside the Warrens who seems to know regardless, but it is good to know that your objective in the duplicity has been completed before being forced to change things.”

Mother leads Travis into a narrow alley between two buildings. Each building has two doors set into the walls, painted over several times as the exterior of the buildings had changed over the years, old basement or loading doors perhaps. She unlocks one of the doors, waits for Travis to pass through, then locks it again behind them.

"I thought if Ahmose knew you had been embraced, he'd attempt to make contact with you. I didn't want you under that sort of... pressure... if it could be avoided."

Travis follows Mother, watching her as she locks the doors before speaking again. “That makes sense considering the situations of the time.”

"And now that the bond is fading, and our mesmerism has never triggered, it's not as much of a concern. So - unreleased childe it is."

Travis nods, then casually reaches out and slides a hand along Mother’s arm gently. “So it shall be.”

She stiffens for a second, then continues on down the passage that leads to the warrens. 

Travis follows after Mother, not very close, but not that far behind either.

"Oh - Artemis is going to spend a few nights in the subway lobby. Apparently he's not feeling safe in his own haven, or among Candace's coterie."

“That is good to be aware of, I wouldn’t wish to disturb or be surprised in the comings and goings that I do have. Is there a particular reason for this concern?”

"He seems to think the Gangrel wants to diablerize him."

“A dire accusation... which one? Bruiser seems more likely as he’s bound with Candy...”

Mother nods. "Allan, yes." She sighs, and shakes her head. "Immature, the lot of them."

“Very much so, sadly.”

"But, ultimately, not my problem." She continues on through the tunnels.

“Fortunately, I suppose.” He follows behind her through the tunnels.

"What are your thoughts on tonight? You said there were other questions that should be asked of the fellow who came in with the recording device."

“While I didn’t catch all of the questions since I was tinkering, I do believe it wasn’t asked how long he’d been in contact through this double blind. Nor the details around why it was Mick’s Bar beyond a cursory answer. Additionally, how the contact had been initiated between them, whether he was a believer in the supernatural before or required convincing, and what precisely he thought he knew of the supernatural.”

Mother nods slowly. "No, none of those were covered. Just that he received the equipment through the mail, and was supposed to meet Sarah and some others at a corner to make them into vampires, too."

“That window has closed to us, mostly, so more importantly... How are you doing?”

This causes Mother to stop completely. "I... don't understand the question."

Travis steps up closer and leans in from behind to say softly for her ears only, “I asked how you were doing... after all, I did leave you with Andrew to see what else may be occurring to be aware of.”

"He's leaving. A year, maybe longer. I don't know where." 

“And how does that make you feel? What do you think about it?”

"I think it's for the best. I can't tell them things I don't know, he can't be traced back to the warrens, and no one will be able to draw him out of hiding. He'll be safe, we'll be safe, and the current information will be spun by the Court to suit its own ends."

“That does answer the second, but not the first... how does it make you feel?”

"I don't know yet." She shakes her head slowly. "I miss him."

Travis nods and pats Mother’s shoulder lightly. “This story isn’t over yet, we shall see what twists it takes.”

"As long as it leads away from the Nosferatu, I'll be satisfied." She chuckles unhappily. "His last words were that I never needed the bond to have him love me, and I never would." She sighs again. "It was never about love. It was protecting him from their blood magics."

“Perhaps not, but perhaps it was also a nice added benefit.”

"We'll see in a year."

“It is entirely possible it could take you that long to get things figured out, but I doubt it.”

Mother starts walking again. "Which things?"

“Your thoughts and feelings.”

"Not for me. For him."

“Are you worried that Andrew will come back an enemy? Worried that all that time you spent together was without value in the long run?”

She shakes her head. "Possibly. I don't know."

“It is something you have on your mind however... yet still, where do things go from here?”

"He hides himself. Life goes on."

“It’s not often you repeat yourself.”

Mother is silent for a few moments. "I don't know where things go. I need to get a better grasp on Mick. Improve my relations with Elizabeth to open up another avenue to influence him, if need be. And she's always seemed competent, pleasant, even when she was Church's. Vinnie wants me to create an escape route for him, Artemis is staying here because he feels threatened..." She turns her head to look at Travis. "And then there's you," she says, voice softer in tone and volume.

"All very reasoned and appropriate items... And then there's me."

"It's not often you parrot my words back to me," she replies, head tilting slightly. "You said you could see it in his eyes sometimes, but he never asked... What are you, Travis?"

“I have been, and will be many things... what I was isn’t what I am or will be... and I believe I said to you only hours ago... when I know more certainly, you’ll be the second to know.”

She nods slowly. "And what is it you want?" she asks quietly.

“Mostly to continue to be successful, safe and perhaps find some equitable companionship.”

Mother chuckles. "I like this answer much better than the one you used to give."

“Noted then.”

She reaches for his hand as they continue walking. "You used to think companionship was... hmm, not on the list of things you should want."

He takes her hand as they continue. “I didn’t quite say that, I believe I merely stated a wariness to letting anyone become too close lest it lead to betrayal of some form.”

"And that's not as much of a concern now?"

“It will always be a concern, but it can be mitigated and minimized with proper approach and planning.”

Mother's quiet for a moment. "What sort of planning?"

“Just as to what needs to be compartmentalized and what doesn’t.”

"And what needs to be..." her fingers stroke along his, "compartmentalized?"

“At this moment in time... very little, at least from yourself.”

"And what is the... proper approach?"

“Depends on the subject... some may need some time to figure things out that are happening, others are less entangled.”

"Have more than one prospect, do you?" Her tone is almost teasing, definitely lighter than it had been when the conversation started on the street.

“Well, there has been a person or two in my life so far that are of interest, I’m no different from others in that regards.”

"In my experience, if you're looking for something a bit more... serious... focusing on one at a time is preferable. Especially if one of them has a curious mind and a talent for getting people to talk."

“Interest doesn’t imply immediate action... It’s not as if I have to act within the next few weeks or months. That grants time to look one at a time.”

"True." Mother doesn't say more, but she also doesn't release his hand.

Travis squeezes her hand lightly as they continue on.

"How are *you* feeling?" she asks after a few minutes of silence.

“I would say conflicted. Mildly aggravated by some turns of events, curious as to the progress of others, and pleased by a rare few.”

Mother nods. "Aggravated by the handling of the odd hunters?"

"Indeed... There was much more available to be done, and much that could have avoided potential contact with those who may inadvertently share the information with real Hunters."

"Mildly aggravated by...?"

"Yes, mildly aggravated by the situation."

"And curious about?"

"What the future holds for the line of questioning I'd already asked you along, as well as the future relationships in this domain between it's vampire population and what it may hold for myself."

"Is there anyone you're particularly concerned about?"

"The one I have to stay most aware of, aside from yourself, would appear to be either Mick or Aloysious."

"What issues do you see with Aloysious?"

"More of being aware of his unique blend of insights and disciplines."

"He's curious, but he hasn't struck me as terribly... invasive, at least not yet. A touch tactless. And he's one of the few kindred in the city who could identify me without my mask or Obfuscate."

"It is still a matter of discovery as to what the future holds."

“To see forward progress, that mostly the assessments and thoughts are accurate, to watch a potential future shaping itself.”

"Pleased that thoughts and assessments about what are accurate?" she asks, stopping briefly to shove a lever upward.

“One, Aloysious’ deductive capabilities and faculty, even if there may be some setbacks attached, knowing is better than not. Two, Candy’s resolution to being bound to a Malkavian is to bind herself, apparently mutually, to a Gangrel who she’s been off and on at odds with. An immensely potentially profitable arrangement that. As well as their forming Coterie with the other Gangrel and the Whore being useful information. The revelation that while the other Malkavian, Jimmy I believe, is potentially as capable as Al, he is no where near as driven and determined. And finally... Mick’s hate-on for the Giovanni.”

"That coterie is... odd. It seems to be just a collection of either the outcasts or incapable. I'd say neonates, but there are neonates - ones will skills and utility - that they avoid."

"Sticking with the comfortable to the detriment of their own future."

"Quite." There's a pause. "It's important to step outside one's comfort zone periodically."

“If you can’t do it on occasion, you won’t be able to do it when you need to.”

"Better to do it under controlled circumstances."

“Indeed so.”

Mother squeezes his hand lightly. "He does seem to dislike the Giovanni more than most."

“Which is something useful at the least, so long as it doesn’t become blinding.” Travis squeezes Mother’s hand back.

"Why do you think so many kindred dislike the Giovanni?"

"I expect, like the Followers of Set but more so, it is because they are what so many are worried of becoming, at least by rumour and stereotypes... Ruthless dealers without any outside allies to really call upon... Couple that with dealings with the dead and their spirits, something more than a few become Vampires to avoid facing... Hate on number one."

"I wonder how much of that ruthlessness is innate, and how much is a response to how they are treated. Nature versus Nurture, I suppose."

"I imagine it's a trait they look for, but that is further honed post embrace. Similar to getting a blade, and then sharpening it further."

"Allowing the nurturing of the mortal life to become the nature for the embrace?"

"Illustrating that in the end, they can only rely on themselves and family, in life and death."

Mother hums in agreement. A few moments later, she says "Tell me about the Setites."

"What about them?"

Her thumb gently strokes his as they walk through the warrens. "You were part of their culture for decades. What are they like?"

He strokes back with his fingers. "That depends on the situation. It's more about seeing where your limits are, what you will or won't do, yourself, granted the opportunity. Given the chance will you lose yourself to vice, find yourself or something in between. The face you show and wear as a Follower of Set is rarely the face of who you are."

"Did you find your limits?"

"I've always had a good idea what my limits were, after the war, but ghouls aren't expected to go to the same lengths, and remain in control of themselves."

She nods slowly. "And how far did you go?" she asks quietly.

"I know what my vices certainly are not, such as narcotics, alcohol or their ilk."

"What are your vices, Travis?" 

With a small smirk he says "That would be telling..."

"So it would."

At dawn, Mother asks Travis where he'd prefer to sleep for the day.

"The bed is nice, but I wouldn't wish to impose."

"Would you like to take the bed while I sleep elsewhere, then?" 

“I was more concerned about your desires, it would defeat the purpose of sharing the bed to be sleeping alone.”

"I think... I would like companionship today," Mother answers slowly.

“Then the bed it shall be.”

Mother seems a bit withdrawn for the rest of the night, but before dawn, for the first time since their night in Fredericton, Mother puts her phone on the nightstand before curling tight under a blanket.

Travis lays with Mother, staying close as dawn draws near.

"Have to bring the heat down soon," she mumbles into the quilts.

“Well, as they say, Winter is coming...”

"Do they?" Mother turns her head. "Autumn is coming."

“Autumn is practically here.”

Mother groans, and burrows back under the blankets.

\---------------------

Monday night, Mother dresses to go Above Ground. "I need to go out for a bit... possibly for the night." She tucks her phone into her pocket, and takes up her cloak and mask. "If anything should happen, or you need to reach me, I'll be at Mick's bar."

Travis watches and nods "I doubt it will be needful, but noted. Safe travels."

Mother nods, pauses, then kisses him on the cheek before she leaves. She doesn't lock the door to their shared room.

Travis returns the kiss in kind, seeing Mother off before starting to tend to his own networks.

Mother doesn't return until almost dawn. She speaks once she's in the parlour outside their room. "Travis?" Mother enters, peeling off her mask and cloak. She smells faintly of warm, rich iron. "How was your evening?" she asks.

Travis looks over at Mother. “Mostly quiet, simple and non remarkable beyond getting ducks in a row.”

"Good. I admit, I was... concerned... about leaving you here alone." She busies herself putting her clothes away, toeing off her shoes, and generally straightening up.

“Worried I would burn the place down while you were gone?”

Mother slows to a stop. "Worried you wouldn't be here," she replies quietly, not looking at Travis.

"My schedule may have taken me out for a bit tonight, but it didn't have the risk of being caught out as the sun rose."

"I'm sure you have safe places you could have hidden," she says.

"Having them is one thing, needlessly using them and risking their exposure is something else entirely... Additionally, the company is very likely to leave something to be desired."

Mother chuckles, but she doesn't sound amused. "And the company here is so much better?"

"Thus far, absolutely. I'm still here after all."

Mother looks at him sharply, but gradually her expression softens, and she holds out her hand to him.

Travis watches her over his device, clearly having paid more attention than his posture would indicate. He reaches and takes Mother's hand with his.

She pulls him up into a loose embrace, and rests her forehead on his shoulder. "Tell me about your night," she says softly. "I'd like to hear something honest and true before I sleep."

Travis slides into her embrace and holds her lightly "I spent most of it looking into word on the street, hearsay and seeing if I saw any particular activity of interest going on behind the scenes. After that I went out to feel the pulse of the city and look in on my holdings and home to make sure it remained undisturbed, as I'm reliably certain even Ahmose doesn't know of it's location. After being assured all was well there I checked in on some of the supply and store houses I know of, and on my assistants and support team. After all that, I came back here. I've been home for a little over an hour now." 

"Home for a little over an hour," she whispers under her breath, then raises her head. "Have you really?" Her voice is cautiously curious.

"That is what I said, I'm not in the habit of lying or exaggerating needlessly either."

Cupping his face in her hands, Mother repeats, "Home."

"Yes, I did say that." He smirks slightly.

Mother smiles, and her dark mood starts to lift. "Yes, you did." She chuckles, and leans in to kiss his cheek.

He kisses her cheek back. "Long pointless night I take it."

"Filled with liars and idiots pretending to be clever." She sighs, and pulls away from him. "Are you sleeping with me today?" she asks, circling around him to fold back the blankets.

"Sounds like a typical night with the vampires..." He smiles slightly "Hmm, certainly, if you'll have me."

There's an almost imperceptible pause in Mother's movements. "Wherever you'll be more comfortable."

"I happen to like the bed."

Mother smiles. "So do I." There's another pause. "Though it is a bit indulgent for one."

"Well, then let me spare you that guilt of purpose."

"Damned if I do, damned if I don't."

"Is that how you feel in this moment and instance?"

"I should," Mother replies quietly.

"Should you? Honestly?"

"That depends on intention, I suppose."

"Many things do, but what are your intentions?"

"I think... I should intend to rest, and think over some of what came to light tonight."

"A solid intention."

Mother nods once as if making a decision. "I think it best, for tonight." She turns her head slightly so she can see Travis out of the corner of her eye. " You should get changed into something... a bit more suitable for sleeping."

“Very well, a moment if you would...” Travis moves to the side room where his things have been and comes back out in a pair of boxer shorts. “Would this be more suitable?”

Mother is half-changed, a heavy nightgown on over her jeans, shirt discarded. She turns, and stops short when she sees Travis. "That..." Her tongue flicks over her lower lip. "You'll be cold," she says, voice quiet.

“I don’t expect I’d be that cold... no more than usual and less than sometimes wanted.”

Unfastening and removing her jeans, Mother tilts her head. "You like the cold?"

“It’s been an ally as often as as enemy, it simply is and I have little problems with it.”

"I prefer warmth. Not heat, necessarily," Mother replies, locking their door, "but warmth." She returns to the bed. "You won't mind if I warm myself?" she asks as she climbs under the covers.

Travis moves to slip under the covers as well. “I wouldn’t have any issues whatsoever.”

Lights are turned off, and a few moments after settling on her side, back to Travis, Mother begins to warm up until she's close to human temperature. "Comfortable?" she whispers.

Travis reaches over and pats Mother lightly. “Yes, thank you.”

There's a moment of silence, and then: "Have you ever regretted it? Allowing me to embrace you?"

Travis looks at Mother, blinks slightly. “It has been... months... and you ask me that already? While I still can remember somewhat recently some of those things I’d given up in accepting this state? That is a very awkward question...”

"That's exactly why I'm asking you now," she whispers back. She rolls over so they're face-to-face.

“Regret is something that any sane person feels... it’s also a mental exercise in evaluating the other ways things could have turned out but didn’t... to not feel it or say I didn’t, would be a lie. To say I’d change how things went after leaving Ramos, would be a different lie.”

"Would it?" 

“Yes, it would.”

Mother rests her hand over Travis's. "As your sire, I'd like to apologize. I've been... distracted... and that is a terrible sin for a sire," she says softly. "If you've felt lost or neglected... I *am* sorry."

Travis takes the hand, and looks at it while Mother talks. “I will accept your apology... I have seen and interacted with much of your distractions, and I can understand... I can’t say I’ve felt lost, however.”

"Good," Mother sighs, pressing her forehead to his. "Embracing you has been... a gift, to me, at least."

“Well, at least something has been a boon to you in these recent days.”

"You are," she whispers in the darkness. "And tomorrow night I'll resume your education. There's still so much to be learned." She squeezes his hand lightly. "What would you have changed about that night?"

“Well, perhaps the sense that you still had time to help Ramos recover himself when he was clearly on the ragged edge... if anything.”

"And that's all?"

“Does that surprise you? Would you rather I said something such as... I wish I’d attacked Ramos then and there... or... I should have brought Ahmose...? Out of curiosity.”

Mother shrugs her upper shoulder. "I'm not sure. I... I didn't expect your thoughts to be about my fears for Ramos." Her fingers stroke over his. "I wish I'd made it more pleasant for you."

"I don't know that you could have, beyond simple wishing. It happened, it's over."

Mother smiles, and brings his hand to her mouth for a quick kiss. "Thank you," she replies quietly.

He smiles to her lightly. "It is nothing, dear."

Mother chuckles. "You've changed so..." Her voice starts to fade. " Relaxed. Good to... get to know... real Travis... "

"Perhaps it is... Sleep... Sleep well."

Mother hums, and curls closer to him.

Travis slips close and holds her closer.

\---------

The only indication that Mother wakes shortly after sunset is the way her muscles shift from lax to alert; she doesn't move out of Travis's embrace. 

"Good evening."

"Evening." She reaches up to lightly run her fingertips over his hair. "Rest well?"

“It would appear so, seem well rested.”

"Good." Mother stretches out straight, rolling onto her back, turning her head to continue looking at Travis. "Not too warm?"

Travis watches her “No, not in the slightest. Not too cold?”

"Not enough to wake me. Have you worked out how to do it? Warm yourself, I mean. It'll be vital in the coming months."

“It seems a sensible focus of will and internal blood control.”

Mother's standard Obfuscate face replaces her blank features, and she smiles. "Very good. Give it a try." She rolls onto her side again. "I find it easier when I think about my core warming first, and then radiate it outward, as opposed to warming my skin."

Travis visibly concentrates, and slowly starts to heat up. “Very well.”

"Later tonight, try it again, but starting with your skin, feel the difference." She presses one hand lightly against his chest. "Nicely done," Mother praises under her breath.

Travis nods “I will bear that different application in mind for later then.” He looks down at Mother’s hand on his chest, then looks at Mother. “Thank you.”

"For what?"

“For the praise.”

"Travis." Mother whispers his name as her hand slides up over his shoulder, curling around the corner of his jaw before her nails scratch lightly at the base of his skull, and she pulls him in for a gentle kiss.

Travis turns to look more directly at Mother, shivering faintly at the scratching caress, sliding into the kiss as he kisses back softly.

Her kiss is light, sometimes barely brushing his lips, sometimes just ghosting over his lower lip with her tongue. This time, there's no half-panicked, half-ashamed pulling away. 

His kiss is slow, lingering as his lips move with hers, smiling somewhat into the kiss at the caress of her tongue.

Mother hums when he smiles. Her lips were cool to the touch at first, but they warm as the kiss continues, as does the hand on the back of Travis's neck. "I like that," she whispers against his mouth, and then presses her lips to his again.

Travis presses his lips back, murmuring, “What did you like most?” as his hands slide along Mother’s body.

Mother chuckles. "You, smiling."

“Well, it is one thing, in private, something completely different in public.”

"I think in public," she brushes her lips against his as she whispers, "the court would be terrified."

He brushes his lips back against hers. “Thus it’s a tool best used when needed and not freely.”

Mother slowly draws back. "A tool?"

“When at Court, or with other Vampires.”

Mother hums, and lightly scratches at the nape of his neck. "And are we talking about your smile," she asks softly, flicking her tongue over his lower lip, "or this?"

“I cannot say of very many, Vampire or Mortal, I would do this with...” He flicks his tongue back, sliding his hands along Mother’s hips and back.

"Good to know." She shifts closer, and nips his lower lip, not nearly hard enough to break the skin, and without fangs, but enough to be noticed.

“Mmm... something you’d like?” He smirks as he asks the question on the heels of her nip.

Mother presses her forehead to Travis's, and sighs. "My apologies," she says quietly, and then rolls over onto her back.

“Why the apology?” Travis asks, curious.

Mother rubs her face with one hand. "You are just coming out of a bond that has held you for decades," she explains, "and you have the potential to exist without even the minimal bond that normally ties a childe to its sire. It's... unfair to you to introduce that element to our relationship, especially when I am... exiting a relationship where the pleasure of feeding from each other was not... uncommon."

“All very understandable points, and ones I can agree to on various levels... for both of our sakes.”

She turns her head toward him. "What do you want?" she asks quietly.

“That is a hard question to truly answer... for the time being I’d have to say to be as fully free from bonds of blood and will as I can while I figure out exactly who I shall become. That doesn’t preclude me from finding joy or pleasure, nor mean that I shall stand alone... just I would rather see myself first.”

Mother threads his fingers through his. "I'd like to see you as well. I think... you're slowly coming to the surface."

“Perhaps so, but things have changed, and not just what I am.”

"Things like?"

"My diminished and diminishing bond for one."

Mother nods. "Anything else?"

"The state of the world since I was last unbound..."

"Things have changed... and yet, they haven't. It's odd..."


	10. September 13, 2014

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mother and Travis discuss the night's Gathering as they walk through the Warrens. A Tremere, Anastasia, had made an unexpected move, and Mother announced to the Court that Travis had been embraced in May, but was not yet released.

"Had an interesting conversation with the Tremere..." Mother says after they're securely underground.

“The fact you conversed with them is interesting in and of itself.”

Mother hums in response. "She says she doesn't trust Edward, and has spoken to those above him about how he handles Saint John, and the Tremere within it." She stops, pulls a small bottle out of her pocket that contains the ruby ring Anastasia normally wears, and tucks it into an alcove. "She wants us to be allies."

“Interesting... isn’t there a number of arts they can perform with and through objects?”

"Which is why I had Artemis touch it directly - I haven't - and why he still had it when we went out of town to meet with him after Mick closed the bar."

“Hmm, that should suffice for most useful means... it wouldn’t prevent a trace, but a trace wouldn’t give the requisite safe path to follow either.”

"If she gets this far," Mother says, closing the alcove and pushing a lever on the opposite wall, "without prior consent from me, you have my blessing to make her disappear in whatever method suits your fancy."

“Ahh, very well then and most excellent... I both hope and despair that such an opportunity never presents itself.”

"We'll see how trustworthy she is." She glances over at him. "How was your conversation with Elizabeth?"

“It was enjoyable, if a bit rushed due to the various goings on.”

"Good. I'm glad you had a chance to reconnect." Mother slips her hand into Travis'. "And the public announcement about your condition? What did you notice?"

“Not very many were surprised by the news, in a great many cases it simply reverted to business as usual. Some perhaps with an eye towards the eventuality of dealings made on similar footings and direct, but not enough to change the dynamic.”

"Good." She tilts her head as they walk. "I'm half-tempted to release you," she confesses quietly.

"Half tempted? Interesting turn of phrase."

"There's still a great deal to teach you... Things we haven't even touched on. Nosferatu history. Camarilla history. The only thing that makes it tempting, honestly, is that it would benefit you politically."

"I like to think I have a good grounding in those fields of knowledge.. beyond that, however, there is nothing that says education stops with the exception of more cutthroat clans such as the Ventrue or Giovanni. However, the decision is yours unless something comes to pass to force it away from you. Which I would earnestly rather not ever have occur."

"I'd rather it didn't happen either. Ideally, I'd prefer to wait until you are completely free of Ahmose's influence, but kindred seem too impatient for a proper upbringing in recent nights."

"I wish I could state it was purely a local phenomena, but I have seen far too much already to wear such rose-coloured glasses as to believe it's simply our backwards city."

Mother nods. "And it shows, obviously... kindred acting like idiot children rather than their age."

"Such as Claire's sudden disagreement with Aloysious and Mick's security network plans."

Mother nods. "He should know better."

"Some cling to the most debilitating illusions..."

Mother glances at him. "And what do you think Claude's debilitating illusions are?"

“Well, either there’s the one about trying to fight against cheap digital camera security by destroying it physically, meaning caught by it, or electronically, meaning unless you’re very, very good, leaving a footprint that can be tracked in some way. Or the one where when presented with the opportunity to nay-say an operation he disagrees with, he remains silent, then seeks to remove it from areas he could have had left uncovered with speaking with the particulars... according to the information provided by Aloysious of course.”

Mother nods thoughtfully. "I'm considering asking Aloysious if he can reduce the picture quality somehow. Affecting the picture quality would benefit most of us, especially if he can degrade it to the point where facial features can't be pinpointed."

“I imagine he could, however a reduced quality across the board would result in the who thing losing it’s value to us, and to those who are subsidizing it for non-vampiric needs. If, however, certain areas suffer from a degraded quality, or a less substantial coverage, well... it’s more likely to generate complaints no one will care to listen to, since the ‘important’ places are well covered.”

"True, too. And in the lower income areas, or poorer businesses, they're not likely to try to fix it or upgrade it."

“Precisely, smarter, more pin-point applications rather than overt, direct and ultimately clumsy and stupid. This tool is as much for our collective benefit as it is those who truly need it, and will get something from like their need from it.”

"Hmm... I wonder if he could do something to the end software that degrades the picture quality, but would still give him the original quality..."

“Infinitely feasible, not even necessarily something complex, just an additional algorithm, added between the initial record and the output. Which would add in a modification to the displayed feed while the unaltered is delivered to the shadow network as originally planned. Of course, again something you don’t want to do on a large scale, or it will destroy the usefulness of the project and program... it’s something being developed and adopted by the municipality, not by the shadowy puppet masters behind the scenes... thus less prone to being examined by outside forces which may be camped out in Fredericton, past or present.”

"Remind me to ask Aloysious Saturday night before the clan meeting."

“I’ll see what I can do to ensure it.”

"Thank you, dear."

“Most welcome, dear.”

Mother's posture stiffens for a second. 

Travis watches her stiffen. "Interesting response... Near instant stiffening of posture and visage to simple endearment..."

Mother doesn't respond immediately. "And what do you conclude from that?" she asks quietly.

"An uncertainty in feelings at the use of term of endearment I used."

"I... I don't want you to think that you're... just a substitute for Andrew."

"Oh good, because I don't think that."

She glances over at him. "What *do* you think, Travis?" 

"I 'think' that what you may feel towards me, conflicted that it may be by differing levels of affection from maternal to intimate, is unique to me. Not a replacement, even if parts of you worry that it could feel that way."

Mother's posture seems to relax. "You are unique," she replies.

"I try to be, part of my charm."

Mother chuckles quietly, a brief lightening of her countenance. "And for you? Is it more than filial piety?"

"Considering I never felt much of that before, no it's not simply filial piety."

"Not simply... but in part. Which is good, I approve of filial piety in my childer."

"A sensible sentiment."

"It's the rest that makes me... curious."


End file.
